Remembering the Forgotten

• Artist: whitejade13
• Description: One of the discussions I had with a friend was the insperation for this poem.
• Date: 01/01/2009
• Tags: remembering forgotten

Counting the days till my life ends
But when will my life trully begin?
I've been trapped in a room my wholelife
i don't know if i'll ever be free.
I've tried everything to open this door
But to open it one must be on the outside.
I yell at the top of my lungs but
no one can hear me.
This room is soundproof
and only the people who noticed
my absence can then find me.
But it seems that i've been forgotten
as i always feared i would.
So i curl up in a cornor
to cry out all my tears
and wait for someone to remember.

Comments

[Dragons_rule_the_sky]

being needed is one of the most important things to human beings. to be forgotten... its like hell. but maybe, if you have to 'wait for someone to remember' they aren't worth the wait. there will always be someone else out there, really, the world is huge. so dont give up, not yet.

[Scarlet Wrath]

'This room is soundproof"

I had that feeling when reading this poem. It creates a point of fear, not knowing your next move, the absence of one of your senses. It's like you're not even there, you're creating a room of pure void where there is absolutly nothing. It wakes me think of life all together, we are still the same even in death. If the memory of ourselves or the ones of our loved ones lives on, know that the same memory is actually a illusion, time is of it's own will.

[Cottoncandyocbra3]

Losing joy over not being remembered is a mistake. I hope you are able to figure this out, some day, so you may live a happier life than me.