Oblivion
We were fed, and fattened
By the millet strewn tales;
Which swayed like barley in our minds.
Those wooded bowls of grain
That spoonfed our souls
Warmed and filled us
Until we grew whole.
But they had foretold;
The Patriarchs,
That we’d grow old
And as we did, we’d forget
That once we’d eaten, like they had
And that once, we’d too, tasted oblivion
Copyright © Jay Richards | Year Posted 2016
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