History

Oh when the times of old

Slip past the boundary of our minds,

We think about our history.

The history of all man kind.

To conquer our fears,

And visit our triumphs.

To remember our friends

And foes.

To revisit those battlefields

Now,

Slightly mowed over

Of being in no-man's land once more.

The low rumble of the canons

As the balls fly through the sky.

The men scatter,

Both the Blue and the Grey.

Then as I listen further,

Musket shots fill the air,

And as I got up to that crest

I feel one pierce my ear.

History is said to repeat itself,

But, this war that I am talking

About, my friend,

Is fought by boys not men.

So as I look at the mangled 

Bodies I see

Laying where they died,

Their sightless eyes 

Tell me their tale

Of those who have lived and died.

So, as you can see

History is something to be reverred,

Retold,

Or it is damned to be repeated.

-Jessica A (Clements) Navarro (8/23/12)