Tom Simard

Poetry, Music, and Prose

The Forgotten

The Forgotten
May death not find you
among the forgotten.

The floors you scrubbed,
the laundry washed.

Depression-time men
passed by for work.

You are older now
and frail among
those lined up
in wheelchairs
for the dose
to keep them
docile.

Dig out
the potato root
formed in that
famished land.

May death not find you
among the forgotten.

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4 thoughts on “The Forgotten

  1. I like this very much.

    Like

  2. Dying unremembered is so heartbreaking. It only takes one other person to miss you. I think in a perfect world, every death would be accompanied by at least one broken heart.

    Like

  3. I share your sentiments.

    Like

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