The Forgotten i
i know how it feels to be second and not
Knowing what to do about it; and the first
one refuses to care about it.
i know how it feels being depressed inside
That small capsule with capricious un-
Happiness and hopelessness prison guards
i know how i felt riding greyhound buses unoticed
by those seated comfortably up front, white-curtains
to obscure Negroes instead of light.
i know more saints who kneel and pray
Hoping for something magica in the distance and
finding out Later or never that reality is just being.
i know how it feels to be forgotten and alone
On a stinky garbage bin eating from a can
As passer-bys cosign to oblivion.
i know how it feels being mother with
a fully matured, broken-winged bird
yet can't leave the nest.
i feel the pain of the crying womb
that month after month flower go to
Seed, die, and never to blossom.
i know how it feels remembering the
The child I 'got' but did'nt 'get'
and the deprived one could have gotten.
i know how it feels being the ignored flower growing
through the cracked sidewalk unnoticed, like
children slipping through cracked welfare system
I know about beauty, fears, joy, and loneliness;
I know about stories held, not told as signs of me;
I know that poems are evident of the obscure being…
the forgotten
Almedia Knight-Oliver January 19,2011
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
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