folly

A Poem by toza

history repeats itself, era to era

times change
but people do not �"
we are always
quite the same:
from young to old
and old to young,
some will always wish
to steal the light
from someone’s star.

raise your head up
high �"
high, high, high,
up to the sky.
what do you see
in the sky?
prejudice over prejudice,
hate stacked on hate,
a twisted tower that we made.