Lessons of History
Oh
I remember history well --
the ancient guidelines --
the lessons repeated,
the dramas reenacted:
the dates, of course,
were of no import;
catching the drift of things,
that was the art.
Languages change, seasons wane.
People experience all the old pain.
What happens now?
What happened before?
Lessons of history
are writ on the walls --
they peek out from thousands
of toilet stalls
where Kilroy once sat.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
