By: Hunter Christian
May we just sit and talk,
for a while please?
Perhaps an evening walk;
if I can awaken these old tired knees,
and aching back too
The older I have gotten;
the greater the pain grew,
And, all I have forgotten;
make memories too few,
Remembering sunrises,
sunsets, and morning dew,
fading from me now,
still cling to the ledges of my mind somehow –
Although, I canvas, I study, your familiar face;
I cannot remember you
Your lines I desperately trace;
still, recognition fails to breakthrough
So much slower goes my pace
Oh, how I wish to start anew
Can I remember your embrace?
I\'m the forgotten soul forgotten
Forgotten are the wars I fought in
Forgotten are my labors labored
Forgotten are the loves I savored
Forgotten are my friends and neighbors
I am the forgotten, forsaken, forlorn
From my mind, my memories have been shorn
So, at the breaking dawn of this past morn;
To the ghosts of all those forgotten, forsaken, and forlorn,
I did wantonly give,
my last and final memory given;
when I had forgotten how to live.