History’s Prisoners

They stand obediently in file.
Despite their differences they are different no more,
dressed in variations of grey and marked with moss.
Forgotten. Or nearly forgotten.
No one has sent flowers. No candle reminds of light.

The wall behind them adds insult to their humiliation.
Topped with barbed wire!
They can’t escape their fate. No one wants to come in and steal them.

Stand here and repent your arrogance in life, history seems to say.
That which you didn’t say will never be said.
That which you didn’t do will never be done.

Life is a gift with which to serve life.
Small monuments to the gift cannot bribe the decay of memory.

Only nature seems to show mercy sprinkling delicate flowers at their feet.
Don’t be deceived. When given the chance nature will gobble them up as unceremoniously as the growth of a forest.
For truth be told History takes no prisoners.