Through The Bones

There are remnants of what was
These skeletons of the past lay in the clutter
They know of history gone by
I am always sad to know of the forget
Yet my mind looks mostly to the horizon
I wonder if there will be anybody
To take a moment and consider


Soon our bones will bleach in the sun
They may have a story of life
What will it be
Would anyone care to know the sequences
Is it a story about life and death
Or are we able to sweep it into the anomie box
I wonder if the lapping ocean cares

I am concerned that ocean is unconcerned
The fruits of existence are marginalized
But there was harmony and balance here once
Life has been trivialized
Existence meant something of importance
It's just without meaning now
Maybe my existence is without