Tell me the whole story.
The story
Of all the oh so many things
That the hands of man have touched.
What is the tale of all of them?
Everything, from the grandest
To the smallest, little thing.

They all have a story,
Made by the hands of mankind,
The planet is so sublime.
We have built many
Perfect things,
Built them out of wool,
Of wood, of glass,
And of metal.

The remarkable things,
The hunk of metal that can move,
The soft wood that indulges man,
The wool that keep us warm,
And of course the bloodlust guns,

The guns that all hold a story,
As well as the rusted dog tags
That defines man,
Or the pocket sized bible
Prayed by trembling hands,
And don’t forget the pierced helmets
Abandoned upon the battlefield.

So tell me the story
Of what mankind was so close to.
The one where the oh so many things
Were alive with them,
And lived half their life for them,
And died half their life too.