The past is buried in an unmarked grave
infinity x people lie amongst the mathematicians
the bankers, the capitalists, the communists,
nuns and priests from long forgotten orders
writers, poets, madmen
believers in Dostoevsky
politicians and soldiers lying side by side
Guevara and Kennedys
reeking of decomposed causes
their headstones inhabit this planet
struggles, dreams, poverty, indifference
Only the living remain to frighten young children
in gardens of festering weeds
Amongst the survivors walks the big bastard war
whose parentage dresses in many flags
holding hands with the spectres of illusion
in this calamitous circus of humanity
the past is buried in an unmarked grave
and still it is hunted
it's rotten body and brittle bones
clutching it's precious treasure
the future carrying a spade and death still the scythe
eager for the digging
anxious to turn the soil
the past is buried in an unmarked grave
leave it alone
let it rest in peace
YOU ARE READING
Weird Reads
PoesíaPoems & Prose to read when your coffee is on the brew. A mixture of the light and dark in life. Strange writing from the pen of a weird mind. Caution advised before reading.
