I dont want to know.
I dont want to go.
I've heard this story too many times.
I sit and laugh and drink my wine.
Why should I care about history that lies?
It's not like I'll ever hear their cries.
I dont understand- and I don't want to
But all of a sudden, all out of the blue,
I'm in a different place.
They tell me of these crazy ways.
And this is where I realize.
Of this place that I should despise.
That the history is in my blood.
The history is inside the ones l love.
Its in the bruises and scars that they hold.
It is in the stories that must be told.
And although I wish it could be a forgoten mystery.
I know that I must acknoledge my history.
Alyssa Marquardt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-dont-want-to-know/
