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by Edward Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1518409
It may seem that we are forgotten, but are we really?
Against the wall lies a person,
To some their name was known,
Others have forgotten,
Or maybe never had known,
The figure lies there,
Peaceful,
Still, as fresh carved stone.

For days it has not moven,
For weeks has been forgotten.

Alive in body but not in soul,
Are they really there,

How can someone live,
If no one can remember?

Children watch,
Unknowing,
Men watch,
Unsure,
Women watch,
Unsaying,
And all will watch no more,
Is this person dead,
Or do they only sleep,
Trapped in their own body,
Trapped in their own world,
As they move away,
Are they leaving,
Or merely being left?

Left by their own people,
Left by their own hope.

Are they really dead,
Or are they merely forgotten,
Are they really dead,
Or can mem'ry bring them back?

The body is dead,
But is the soul,
While memories still hold on?

Unknowing, unsaying, unsure,
The watchers are not gone.

The body leaves,
The watchers disperse,
Will they still remember?

Questions never answered,
And feelings never let out.

A wooden lid closes over,
And memories are forgotten,
Dead and gone,
Forever,
No one to bring them back.

They are forgotten,
They are gone,
They leave their life behind,
Gone from the living,
In body, spirit and mind.

Really?
© Copyright 2009 Edward (edherbs135 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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