I, The Forgotten

[Tjflowers80]

I, the forgotten, laying in wait
To the monkeys of my life of late
To the lions of wrath and carnage
I, the forgotten, holding in the rage.

I, the forgotten, riddled with pain
In the down pour of the rain
In the bleak of winters cold
I, the forgotten, sitting under snow.

I, the forgotten, radiating the sorrow
Praying that they see me tomorrow
Knowing that it may never be so
I, the forgotten, you shall never know.

[saw]

much sadness here, we all want to be noticed to some degree....and when our perceptions are low on the register, it can feel pretty lonely....poetry is the perfect arena to express that...

[theirishsea]

Hopefully you aren't holding in rage----if you are expressing it in a poem, then you aren't. I agree w/saw.

These lines bother me because in the rest of the poem you have rhymes.


In the bleak of winters cold
I, the forgotten, sitting under snow.


maybe make it "the bleak of winter's cold show" . Or, though not perfect rhyme, in winter's bleak cold shoulder

Or pick up a word to rhyme "cold".

What do you think?

[Tjflowers80]

Tha you both for the comments. This was written in the heat of frustration to be honest..... Often I have been left out in the cold and snow because people who have my car have forgotten to pick me up.

[theirishsea]

That happened once----luckily only once (keeping my fingers crossed)----in my senior year of high school. The high school had a night game 8 p.m. and this guy was supposed to pick me up.
(for Baltimore people----Loyola High School. The guy lived in Dundalk. He was going home for dinner and said y
"yeah, I'll pick you up. I gotta come that way." Well I waited on the Clifton Park side of Harford Rd. and St. Lo Drive----for an hour. It was cold. No. It was COLD. I had faith in people and their word in those days. The guy never went home from Loyola Towson and later mid-way in the game he remembered he was supposed to pick me up. This was probably 1961. Long time ago but I remember that.

[68degrees]

People have an inner desire to be noticed, to not be forgotten. The ignored child often grows up with a sour look on life and a heightened lack of empathy.

Enjoyed this. Not easy to turn the other cheek.

68degrees

[Tjflowers80]

I have found ways to cope.