XXX. History Has a Name

In the halls of youth, these songs are sung,
In hallowed fields the bells are rung
And step after step, rung after rung,
The ladder to the future is deftly run.

In the epochs of past the ghosts they ran
Once flesh and blood colored by the tan.
Yet step after step, man after man,
Our fathers became one with the sand.


In the breath of time I write this rhyme
The breath is gone and cannot be tied
And minute after minute, line after line,
History has a name, and its name is mine.