Forgotten,
Forgotten,
Is that a word!
I wonder,
At the smudged pencil room!
Light in rays from the pencil lamp!
Like cross-hatch!
But smudged!
And my tears smudge the paper more!
As blackness enters my drawing eyes!
Y(live)o(your)u(life)!
As though!
As though in greatest joy!
Not a single sadness and regret!
Always rising black star,
A white star on a black mare!
And white socks for feet!
And joy you take!
As though I'm not there!
I don't exist!
Forgotten! Not there!
My problems, not real!
My hopes to be avoided,
Ignored!
I watch from a distance,
You always enjoy there!
And act as though I don't exist!
And act as though I don't exist!
And act as I don't exist!
A drawing on a painting,
In a book, sketching book,
Somewhere!
And around me appear cross-hatch angels!
That comfort me,
Cure my wounds,
Oils here and there!
It's like I don't Exist! Forgotten! Over there!
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