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Poetry
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| Who are you | |
| By roy | ||||||||||
| 25 May 2007 | ||||||||||
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A bit of fun Who are you? Who are you? And where are you from? The document enquired I was not in the mood for this for I was feeling tired The first bit was quite easy, as I simply wrote my name The second part I found I couldn’t answer quite the same Of course I could have simply written down my home address Yet where I really came from well, I couldn’t even guess I knew who Mum and Dad were, I even knew my Gran So now I started wondering how it all began Now when the earth was forming at the very start of time All of us were microbes in some thick primeval slime Some of these small microbes but only just by luck Developed into creatures and staggered from the muck Survival then took over, as there was no master plan Eventually these microbes had developed into Man Then did some ardent caveman feel the overpowering need? To club some luckless cave girl into whom to sow his seed? Why did she love his offspring and help it to survive? Well if she had not bothered then I might not be alive This applies to all of us; I know it may sound queer By pure circumstantial chance all of us are here Just who are our ancestors who’s gene bank do we own? Were they men of consequence or somebody unknown? They could be despot leaders that other nations feared Or perhaps just men of God that everyone revered We know that history tells us tales of love and war and crime So someone’s ancient ancestors were present at the time Was it your relation, or mine? I just don’t know Who thought that noise would crush the walls of ancient Jericho? Someone fought for Genghis’ Khan and someone else sacked Rome Are these folks descendants sitting with me now at home? Who was it that started all the European wars? Was it my relation or was it one of yours? Did relations fight at Agincourt or fight on Bosworth Field? Or did they fight at Nasby where Cromwell made them yield? Perhaps they fought for Cromwell and for Fairfax on the day There is no way of knowing so I really cannot say They cut the heads off queens and kings there really is no end Someone did all of these things and from them we descend To all this speculation we should maybe call a halt For if we are descendants others may think it’s our fault Sometime in the future it may possibly be proved My great grandpa did all this fifty times removed So if some nosy parker should enquire from whence I came I’ll just say, “I have no idea” in case I get the blame! roy
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