What is History to me…?–Poetry Potluck (Wk 47)

What is history, what does it mean
To me? Stories in books, that hold
False truths being engrained over
And over and over again, but the
Stories told, so bold, and deceptive
They hold truths not belonging
To me, not my friends nor my
Family, but this is History,
Stories built upon lies for centuries
Lies for the entire world to see,
to learn, to believe as truths of
lives non—known by either
you or me…History deemed
my people to be less than
that which we were born to be
stories you see, of disease, and
animal like qualities, stories
respected to just be when
they are no real depiction
of you nor me…my people
my friends or my family
HISTORY, just stories
Of lies upon lies telling, stories
Of how things used to be,
Instead of focusing on the
Changes we need in this
Current thing called reality

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13 thoughts on “What is History to me…?–Poetry Potluck (Wk 47)

  1. swanrose says:

    so so true and still is as the present is only what we are told it is. We can and must question. But alas it is tiring to question everything and we will never have the answers unless we are there. So I guess a grain of salt goes a long way. Nice job on this

  2. woih says:

    Very very true…

    There is very little history that I find to even be a half truth after researching it fully

    And ya know, through meditation, I’ve been finding that my own personal history is full of false truths and self deception that have been engrained over and over again. I’m now choosing to let go the lies

    Great writing and honesty
    Best wishes in truth,
    Dennis

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