I lay in the field of forgotten where many other strange things lay.
Dates and birthdays are piled high.
Where toys and books are thrown into mounds
Broken beyond repair
Yet somehow they still have life
Glowing still, hope, still.
People wandered aimlessly
Around the piles of forgotten
Giving into their fate
That remembrance was not possible
I lay on forgotten floor tiles looking past the forgotten washing and into a bright sun.
I was guessed it was cloudy outside.
I breathed in deeply considering my chances of getting out -
Would I ever be remembered?
I picked up a half finished stool wondering if that would be me.
Friends didnt forget friends, she would remember.
I would go through that door soon
I knew it, maybe not today,
But soon, defiantly soon.
I smiled as I watched the sun whip through the door to life
And I knew I would go through there soon.
I would be remembered.
