Fifty Thousand Years
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I know about the unaloneness
Of friendship
That lasts 'till you're alone;
I know about moments of amusement,
Trips to get away,
And promises that seem sincere when made.
I know about the brief intensity of pleasure,
The sometimes endlessness of pain.
I know about working for a living,
The often slight rewards of effort,
The slowness of getting ahead,
How easy to lose and hard to gain...
And I know about the merciful silence of solitude,
Being wrapped in the absence of sound
When everything human is nowhere found.
Trips to get away,
And promises that seem sincere when made.
I know about the brief intensity of pleasure,
The sometimes endlessness of pain.
I know about working for a living,
The often slight rewards of effort,
The slowness of getting ahead,
How easy to lose and hard to gain...
And I know about the merciful silence of solitude,
Being wrapped in the absence of sound
When everything human is nowhere found.
But let me know if you
Find any meaning
To fifty thousand years
Of war and killing.
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