364 Marble

Random poem written when I was high to prove I could make anything rhyme

History bears the scars of our bloodstained marble
In the dead of night, memory seems to fade and garble
A dark crow took flight as I clung tight for a toehold
The fair one said goodnight but lately I'm not sold

On the shows of the world combined for I've lost
And strayed off the path, bit hard by the utter frost
Burying deep the memories of a childhood spent
Punching each other in mock violence, a vent

For some inner inability to articulate our frustration
A far cry we are from living in a truly united nation
Love comes and goes and here we find a chord
That helps us come to terms with our past, accord

Falling off a high cliff into an icy river we're cleansed
Of the grime, a melody of power that we once sensed
A fertile sense of Earth into whose play we've crept
An Earth we despoil and dismay, almost no-one wept

A tear to fall on her ravaged soil from which a river
May spring instead of us fools digging for silver
Surely we can find a better use for our time - yield
Wisely to the urge to spend time in a sunny field