A Palinode In Between

Let’s read from the great book of humanity
To remind ourselves of our forgotten reality.
We have wandered too far from home
In preference of this wilderness we roam

We counted with the clock
But somewhere in the midst, we became a lost stock.
Lost faces everywhere you look
We seem to – in reverse – have read the book.

We are now just pages
From a reaped whole,
Running wild with our consciences in cages.
The length of the road has taken its toll.

Are we all not pages of “the book of humanity”?

Thomas Tee2emm Bot