The ink dried but never settled,
truth smeared between the pages' weight.
Nine hundred doors slammed in unison,
each whispering a different answer.
Lee Harvey Oswald's name folded in shadows,
his silhouette stark against blame's spotlight.
Did he hold history in steady hands,
or did the wind reshuffle the leaves?
A city mourned, a nation unraveled,
grief turning corners, circling its own logic.
In Dallas, roads still echo the motorcade’s hum,
the grainy footage burns like a second sun.
Answers heavy as monuments, paper-thin,
a report sealing wounds that still bleed.
Memory fractures but refuses to fade,
inquiry closed yet forever ajar.
Because truth cannot be footnoted completely,
it slips through wide open cracks of doubt.
And though archives sleep in steel-bound shelves,
questions linger, their voices loudest at night.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2026 05:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments1
Under a government proven to lie and hide more than it reveals one can not but doubt and too many unanswered questions that defy physics and mathematics of probability to leave the mind at rest. People in power that benefit, shots that have not been able to be replicated, film frames missing, key witnesses deaths, redactions, classified kept from public view, revenge over unkept promises politics at its best in the smoke and mirrors of Washington. No one believes anyone anymore. If they do they are fools. Well written Gray
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