The hands move around the circle of the clock, <br />They know of no other way in which to do so, <br />Coming to the end of their journey, they’ve reached the top, <br />And once again, their same travels begin through, <br />History, as they say, repeats itself, <br />Time and time again, <br />As with every turning of those hands, <br />Repetitively it repeats the turn, <br />I’m beginning to believe it is true, <br />My life tends to show it when it can, <br />Life bunting me into the random, <br />Of strangers to which I oddly linger, <br />Trapped into my memory as a memorandum, <br />Of when I was torn from my rapture, <br />As my heart shattered from a horror, <br />Waiting for the wound to pass, <br />It finally does after long last, <br />Now, yet another came into my life, <br />When you entered into the room, <br />I longed to speak, but the air from my lungs had been thrust out, <br />From the collapsing of my lungs of the excitement that seeing you brought, <br />What little air could be pushed forth for words, <br />Would stumble and waver as they went, <br />Lost feelings peeking from behind my scarred heart, <br />Not wanting to risk this thing to once again start, <br />As history repeats itself, <br />And this would also end in such a way as the others, <br />I would see this clock broken, <br />So the hands are forsaken, <br />And history won’t repeat itself, <br />If the hands cannot pass from the top, <br />This pattern must right now stop, <br />So though you seem interesting, <br />You are quite appealing, <br />I can’t let myself be intrigued by you, <br />For this clock will turn the same way as it always has, <br />So before I’m actually really longing, <br />To be out with you and frolicking, <br />I do my best to stop these feelings, <br /> From revealing, <br />Attempted to sealing, <br />So there not even being, <br />And cause the repeating, <br />Of pain in my soul, <br />Then I may somewhat still remain whole.<br /><br />Keel Lincoln<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/history-repeats-itself-3/
