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The Light of History

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  • The Light of History

    Memories and flashbacks are scattered on the floor
    As images of the present barricade the door.
    I stare at the ceiling into stars of the future kind
    While sitting in the room that makes up my mind.

    I sit and I watch as history floods through the shades
    With the Winner of War’s stories riding the rays.
    The loser has a story too, for that I have no doubt,
    But it’s nowhere in the mess of memories that are scattered about.

    When the light hits the floor, more pictures take form;
    Reminding me that not all of history is peaceful and warm.
    Through the back of my mind runs an intricate thought,
    “How does this change everything we have been taught?”

    Mid thought there’s a knock, strong, yet subtle and low.
    Time awaits my presence, so I may not miss his show.
    At the last step, as I reach for the door,
    I take one last look at the past on the floor,
    And think it’s a shame we’ll never have the whole story.