Folds And Circles Poem by Graham Stone

(more an idea i'm slowly begining to appreciate)

I see, I think,
Unclearly, but sill I see,
Blurs and smears,
Shapes and colours
Coming into focus slowly,
And I think I see,
The folds and circles
Of our ever occurring history.

War declared.
War fought.
War finished.
Depression.
Unemployment.
Hard times.
Promise of better times.
Hope.
Dream of resolve.
Resolve fought for.
Resolve obtained.
Resolve questioned.
Despair.
Resolve defeated.
Anger.
Violence.
War again.

I’m not the first I think,
To see these patterns.
And still my vision of it is blurred
In the ignorance of its scope,
J.B priestly believed in breaking these very circles
And Dadaism actually tried.
But still travesty prevailed
Alas! the avant guard! ,
a second world war
After the war to end them all,
History seems to have twisted itself so,
That such sick jokes should wring from its pages.

I see the circles through a haze.
I see them behind me,
Around me where I stand
And I see them spiralling forward
Like a path I must follow
Where I intend to walk.

These circles then, the folds of repetition,
Are the not just eternal bonds?