Reading Poetry

When the cold had nearly broken us
We held on to the hope for warmer days
And when they came around
We severed all our bounds and ran away

In a story old as time
We sought to free our minds
And forgot the rules

We cannot help that
When the winter turns to spring
We are April’s fools

And we lay ourselves to waste
Simply trying for a taste
Of what it is they mean
For it seems life is but a dream
You’ll hear us crying to be free
And you’ll just have to let it be

From dust we have arisen
Like every generation come before
And once again we’re driven to start looking
Not knowing what we’re looking for

We’ll do it just the same
By any other name
And make up the rules

And we will see that
When the winter turns to spring
We are April’s fools

We’ve got this all under control
We’ve rolled our rocks and rocked our roles
We’ve swung on wires through the sky
And we know one day we’ll die
But we stand under the sun
And stepping into nothing start to run

"History is more or less bunk." - Henry Ford