As the Past Slips
by: trista groulx

As we drive our gas guzzling SUVs
Working for the next new, expensive, toy
Watching the latest Hollywood story unfold
All in the comfort of our cozy homes
We forget our past, the real past we overlook
A past of real people who once fought
Of real people who once died for us
For all the freedoms we enjoy today
The same freedoms we now take for granted
Forgetting those young men who went to war
Only to return home in body bags
For their families to grieve forever more
So we might enjoy our freedoms of today
We, too seem to forget the innocent
Who never agreed to be on the front lines
Oh, and how we fired upon them still!
And how they were so savagely tortured
As we sit in our cozy little homes
Centuries, or only worlds away?
With these fancy toys we just don't need
Watching fake stories unfold on the TV
We forget our past, the real past we overlook
The present we seem to let go by, too
Of real people who once died for freedom
Of real people dying still for their ideals
No matter how young or old we may be
We all seem to be forgetting all the past
As if history only exists when convenient
We forget all the men who left, not to return the same
Some even, doomed never see their families again
In such a zeal for only an ideal
Made the sacrifice for obscure future freedom
Which we now take more then for granted
We think as if it's always been there
And will always remain static for us
We forget the great evil does exist
Did once exist on the grandest of scales
And will continue to exist in this world
More then day to day stressors, trivialities
We just seem to forget our past, the real past
We never did learn its lessons
Which apply even to our world today
Few can tell their eye witness stories now
What happens when we loose the rest?
As we sit in front of our TVs
Letting our past just slip away from us
We shrug of those who say "lest we forget"
Never finding the time to listen, without apology
Letting the important stories just slip away
Letting history slip between our fingers
Like writings in the sand
The winds of change brush away
The stories of our past, the real past
And we forget the lessons only it can teach
The lesson of the past must be learned
To hope to never repeat them