His-Story Lays

Over the past few days I have thought much about topics to write on and also topics that I could still visit and re-visit. Thus todays poem is one such poem, which has taken me the past couple of days , both writing, rewriting and then re-editing until I end with a poem I felt happy enough with to share.

We live in a time where much of History is being both hidden and often covered over and any lessons potentially learned from those times are almost forgotten. Thus in tutrn brings me to ask, “Do we risk a return to times whensuch are revisited” to rerun events that should remain and set aside to proudly or otherwise learn from such times.

This is in a way where todays poem comes into play. We need to be reminded that His-Story (history) is Our-Story, regardless of pride or otherwise of such. But do we risk clearing such from view to suit the wishes of those who deny all that offends them?

Thus I set this poem out for folks to read and discuss for themselves, Is His_Story Not worth knowing or taking some part in protecting to teach those who come after us? Your-Story may not be My-Story, BUT When it is His-Story we should protect if at least to teach.

The reason I use the terms His-Story and Our-Story are for poetic and creative reasons, also it appears to hang in the mind a little better.

Having said all of this; Please Enjoy this Poem:

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_{Often I post Photographs here that are copyrite of those wwho took such artwork. The above Photograph is of my own collection and is subject to copyrite of myself Pat Fitzgerald}

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His-Story Lays


 One walk through the ruins scattered about,
Without doubt history calls out to shout.
Hidden in the overgrowth forgotten,
Often seen as rotten unlike cotton.


Come now see where history is hidden,
As nothing e’er dares to be forbidden.
Here a canopy covers like a shield,
Free to yet roam and explore with no yield.


For who yet knows His-Story would they dare,
Cover the roads that lead you there or care?
When his-story is our-story to share,
Pass the penny let it slide, thus beware.


Who cries his-story when gone from our view,
To the victor the spoils remain to chew.
Let the cyclone wind its course, deny cause,
Their-story ne’er yours to go tell what was.


Dare you walk ‘neath canopy green,  go see,
Where his-story lays hidden, all is free.
Let pride fall on shields clear to educate,
His-Story teaches ne’er to repeat fate.



 © Pat Fitzgerald 2023

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Thank you for taking some time to read this post and poem. I consider myself to be constantly learning this field of poetry writing. It is something I have hidden away for many years and denied even liking such, but in recent years I have learned to embrace my love for poetry and strive to improve my writing as I move along each day on this blog.

Often due to the speed of my typing and a few other issues mistakes and typos will find their way into published posts. I strive to work on improving this as I move along. My thanks for your understanding of this.

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Until Next Time Cheers.

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