Tick tock,tick tock clock,seconds,minutes,hours,days,months,years,damn the infernal clock,damn the time that slips through our fingers,damn the wasted time that we should forget but we cannot.Tick tock,tick tock clock,there is never enough time,there is never enough time,oh, how I wish I could make time stop.
Rise,rise up and fight,rise up and fight the ignorant,the obnoxious,the cowards who like to belittle and cajole,and those filled with spite,rise,rise up and fight,and do not tolerate the racists,the sexists,the violent,and those filled with hate,and those who in hate revel in delight.Rise,rise up and fight,fight those that like to wrap themselves in cloaks of black,cloaks
Wander as you will as the lion in the maze,and consider your options with visions of clarity,and by educated ways,for with such courage and strength,you will turn the corner of the darkest of days,and so, your eyes will meet the challenge,because if you know yourself,you are a lion that cannot be phased,and you will be
Some say not much,some say it all,some say meaningless things that have no point at all,some lie,whilst others rise above it all,some people are dishonourable,some people are honourable,some people, play the fool,some people play it cool,some people belittle,some people encourage,but why, why cannot we encourage one and all,and turn the smallest of plans,into the biggest
In the train, do you wonder, how many people you pass, do you consider of how many frames their life would be, if numbered in still photographs, and, of their experiences, what of these, and how many of their days would be filled with activity, and of those not, and how many of their days
Did the mountain come to you when you called? Did you call loud enough for it to fall, and did it stand unmoved and resolute, or lay in ruins at your feet, large broken rocks and small, and what did you ask it when you called, did you wish for change, did you ask for the
You abandoned me, said the sea,you went home and left me,you left me with no one to wave at,and now, I am in misery,and you left me as bored as can be,and lonely,oh, what am I to do, what am I to do with me?I wish I knew,but you,how could you,how could you leave me,because
What is history is a poem written by me Ben Robinson, and is kindly read out by Craig Wells, around the thirty minute mark. An edited version will be available shortly.
If God has not been conclusively proved to exist, and the creation of the universe has not been conclusively proved to have been created by God, and the words of God (whichever God you choose), have not been proved to have come from God, then there is no current truth of any of those being