The Museum of Man

There’s a place,

some stormy years from now –

called, The Museum Of Man.


Many visit this strange place,

but none are no more a man

than we who now field-trip

to once-worlds encased

for modern escape.


The Museum Of Man has many displays,

some clearer than others,

like the bones of one man –

approximate height: six-foot, two;

was lean but strong,

perhaps brave,

perhaps some leader of men;

perhaps, long ago.


His bones were found in a large, well-sealed tomb.

He makes a fine display for the visitors now,

His proud, hollow skull overlooking the false riverbank –

as much a man as those staring back.


The Museum Of Man grows larger each year.

More is found, through the ages of forgotten dust.

Entire cities are unearthed

as progress moves on.


Most wonder the same thing:

Who in the world were these people?

And what in God’s name were they doing?


It’s an interesting thought

for those wandering the museum halls.

But who knows for sure?


It makes for an interesting school-day trip,

but there’s work to get done today.


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