Through The Window Of Time

An old fading brownstone,

For many a decade it has not been alone.

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If only we could see what it’s eyes must have seen,

Maybe then we would know where we’re going and where we’ve been.

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The cobblestone streets that lead past it’s front door,

Crumbled from the weather and travelers burdens I’m sure.

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It’s residents present and long ago past,

Have seen what this world has offered to the last.

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The carriage, the train, the automobile,

All graced this place whether wood, iron or steel.

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From street lights of gas or electric lights glow,

They lit up the sights of another nights show.

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So great a loss of life fighting wars on two fronts,

A choice to drop the bomb would end hostilities at once.

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Parades and floats to the sailors joyful kiss,

Soldiers home from war we gratefully would not miss.

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Then a plea to the cops into Korea we did go,

But our hands were handcuffed by the reluctance we did show,

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A stalemate was called that we live under till this day,

Neither a win nor a loss could be granted either way.

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A call for equality from the King did he shout,

With hoods and with nooses the cowards tried to drive them out.

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Watching as a President is taken before his time,

Paying respects in a long and somber funeral procession line.

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The brownstone’s broad eyes did shed tortured tears,

As a people came to terms with an unsure nations fears.

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Ducking behind window boxes from the riots we did hide,

From tear gas and protesters we kept our children safe inside.

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Then there’s the hell of this little place Vietnam,

Over 58.000 lost never to return home.

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To this day we don’t know what it all was all for,

A chapter we’d prefer to lock behind a locked door.

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Then cries for peace and love in song did they roar,

Long hair, love beads and bell bottoms they adorned.

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Three days of love from a Woodstock would live on,

Though Jerry Garcia, Janis and Jimmy are now gone.

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A gas crisis, Beirut and the hostages in Iran,

Oil, our Marines and our citizens held in foreign lands.

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Then along came the Gipper to rescue us from us,

Bringing our people back without much muss or much fuss.

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The economy turned around while trickle-down became law,

Taking twenty plus years to find out there was a flaw.

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In 2001 we were brutally attacked,

By suicide bombers that should have been tracked.

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Our World Trade and Pentagon, the heroes in a Pennsylvania field,

So many had died, so many have been killed.

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In retribution and revenge we invaded Iraq,

To topple Saddam and push the Revolutionary Guard back.

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Into Afghanistan we marched as others had before,

With an uneasy partner in Islamabad and Lahore.

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An attempt to democratize third-world tribes,

Costing our mothers their sons and daughters sacred lives.

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Osama Bin Laden is dead at the hands of the Seals,

One more terrorist down knocked back on his heals.

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All to what end I don’t think anybody truly knows,

We’ll wait for history to say, to see how it goes.

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Our economies in turmoil, our politics a disaster,

Compromise and diplomacy no longer can they master.

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Fiscal cliffs and debt ceilings in our sights looming large,

It’s hard to tell if anyone in D. C. is in charge.

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Where we go from here is anyone’s guess,

Raise a glass and make a toast and hope for the best.

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Our past world glories seem far and away,

As we long for that time to be ushered in today.

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Our yesteryear’s are pocked with our failures and successes,

Hoping cooler heads prevail and our virtues to protect us .

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O’ the good and bad this old brownstone must have seen,

The lessons taught through history, I’m hoping we did glean.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~