A museum is full of delicate arts and artifacts,
passing by the section full of inventions to interact.
They speaketh to us in myths and dinosaur tracts
And waketh us to an idea to honor the past.
Are there writings or paintings that walketh not?
Are they made to sing the stories of the greek gods
and to recite the names of the painters during the Renaissance
And stumble upon warriors who fought with pens, swords, and love
What’s certain is that this museum is our present, future, and past.
What’s uncertain is whether we’ll be the robots in a picture who
Perform the same tasks, controlled and silenced by the higher-ups.
Dear children, be in a museum who knows your name at last.
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