Good morning, all. I have been thinking much on history’s many people. I find it easy to remember the events, the macro, so to speak, but it can often be difficult to fathom that every individual person that has ever lived was in fact a person, that they loved and hated and joked just the same as now. I try to think of them. Even if I can’t remember their names, I try to remember them. To not let their stories be forgotten if I can help it. They existed. Try not to forget.
Aegyptus
An ancient Pharaoh rests in her tomb
Dreaming dreams of her Kingdom’s doom
Before her death it did so loom
But come to pass it did so soon
Great commandments of a God
Covered now in sand and sod
Her people, their Pharaoh, did they laud
But now you’ll find but just facade
Dead and gone
Ghost and a pawn
She never did so see the dawn
As coffers drained and blood was drawn
O Cleopatra, last of the Pharaohs,
Bite of an asp, or so many arrows?
On a path that suddenly narrows
Sleeping now in holes and barrows.
Your Love, Marcus Antonius, Mark Antony,
Does he so too rest in sand and sod?
Poems by Sam 