How many songs wrote never known?
How many crescendos
lost to the echo
of merciless Fortune's squealing tired tire?

How many words?
never perturbed
silt beneath the oceanic span
between here and fame's centurion?

How long until god thrusts them into day?
to trace glibly along the interstate
for some passing child to stumble upon
and resonate?

How many bodies
removed of soul
Riddled with bullet and dirt of metal
sank deep into the earth and turned to worms
and protozoa
and chirps
and birds
and grass
and bark
and leaves
and trees
and Pax
Humana

How many greats' fate
Do we forget in our mad scramble
and the many fateful decisions
To save
or burn
Their words
and hands
And let Destiny
or Jesus
or Allah
or Krishna
or Mahayana
Guide their thoughts
to greater heights

Of how much
Have we lost sight?

i can't remember my dreams anymore
not the ones i fashioned when i was asleep
nor when i was awake

Written this morning, I had an inkling that the title sounded familiar, so I looked it up (bless the computer) and lo! there is was - a poem, not at all the same, written in 1998, twenty years ago, even published under the misprinted title Pushed Around by Fat.  Anyway, here they are:  Pushed Around By Fate#1 &
#2.
      Pushed Around By Fate #2

Soft, gentle, like one of the fluffy clouds of the purest heaven above,
Free of all sin, of all filth of this earth and of what a demon holds in his desire or temptation within his wicked heart of devilish instinct,
While they carry you to your last judgement they glance at you,
Seemingly so dreamlike that it must be like a legendary illusion of an infinite being, cast upon you to grant you a splendid slumbering,
You will never be able to go back again, it has been decided that it should be this way, depart now my little soul, recieve your justice,
Recall your previous self, as these angels stare at you with roaming might, spreading their wings to appear more light, carefree and pure,
See into the dreams you saught to escape, now all agony, all sin and pride, envy and majesty are burnt away to rot within their light,
The luminousity coming from these fluttering wings, is so smooth it would likely make the worldly life appear to be in a darker shade,
Tirelessly, they are free from all needs, with no need for deep sleep,
Even if you tried you would be swept away by their sheer power,
These Angels had waited to carry you; until the moment you die!
When you reach your final destination, darkness or light will be what you may recieve, or may these wings which seem to be invaluable,
Be pure, then you are worthy of carrying angel wings.

~ Umi