Somebody's little girl- how easy it is to make a sob story over who she once was and who she now is. - Carl Sandburg

"...when a society or a civilization perishes, one condition may always be found. They forgot where they came from. They lost sight of what brought them along. The hard beginnings were forgotten and the struggles farther along. They became satisfied with themselves. Unity and common understanding there had been, enough to overcome rot and dissolution, enough to break through their obstacles. But the mockers came. And the deniers were heard. And vision and hope faded. And the custom of greeting became "What's the use?" And men whose forefathers would go anywhere, holding nothing impossible in the genius of man, joined the mockers and the deniers. They lost sight of what brought them along."

I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.

Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment.