History repeats itself . . .

A slow sad song
Sung
By one person
And then another
And another.

A melody
Played alone
That another picks
Up and plays
A countermelody to.

A chorus,
Standing up against
The majority
That do not
Want
To listen.

Perhaps
Perhaps
One day perhaps
It will be heard
And the glory
That is love
Will prevail.

© 2ndwitch, 25/01/15