Annoyed By Their Own History Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Only a fool would believe,
A blooming tree to cut its worth down...
With growing branches and budding leaves,
Could survive after being separated...
From roots that had provided its nourishment.

And any greatness achieved to perceive it,
Permanently kept to remain to stay that way...
Eventually rots from decay.
Oxidized into dust.

No longer there to identify,
What that greatness meant to remember.
Or how it felt to know what it was.


If those entrusted to prioritized a foundation,
Built firm with concrete and steel.
Leaving in their minds ideals cemented.
Accomplishments to value,
Would be daily inspected to visit repeatedly.
But a fanfare to celebrate,
From memories distanced...
Begins eroding a devotion.
Until a felt obligation fades to vanish.
Steadfast loyalty disappears from comprehension.
A potential destroyed.
Few are overheard to give attention to mention.
Destroyed and annoyed by their own history.
Ignored to hear this periodically.

And yet...
Comments made from time to time,
Can not explain why those of limited minds...
Have found to find excuses to make to reduce,
The value of their own existence to condone.