Some people love big history
The famines and the wars
They know a thousand famous names—
Have large books stored in drawers
And that's important, I get that
We need to know these things
But I confess I don't care much
For plagues, weapons, or kings
Instead give me the recipes
Filled with handy notes
I'll try to find the person hidden
In their little quotes
Tell me who once owned this toy
I now hold in my hand
I think I almost see the girl
Playing in the sand
These initials in the tree—
Who were they made by?
I wish to know it truly, but,
I cannot ask the sky
The photos and the videos, oh,
How much I love them so!
I drink them in, and wonder at
All that they do not show
I ache to know all that I can
Of little histories
The lives that we do not record
And are left mysteries
These things I want to learn the most
But I will never know
Because we think they have no worth
And each day let them go
YOU ARE READING
Poems to Leave Streaks of Ink
PoetryAnd I'd rage at the monsters, But that's the task of fools, Who cannot bring themselves to know, Monsters are humans' tools... I write poems like this, just usually longer...feel free to give some of them a read:)