A falling star through history: A poem 

I think I couldn’t cushion my elbow 

on the tough leather of history 

But I think I just could get my foot in your door 

to tell you that brazen evil befell, without mystery 

Do you know that wolves became dogs? 

Metaphorically, it may have been the other way around 

You can see that evil proudly logs 

And innocents die without a sound 

I don’t insist Neanderthal was man 

But you ought to know what a cruel fishy race of sapiens began! 

There is no history where you can place a thumb 

without feeling evil’s contagious germ  

And I have travelled like a falling star 

The sacrifice and suffering I can’t explain in words 

But I can simply tell you that some good things are 

older than the universe