Somewhere between not being heard and not
wanting to burden anyone, stands the forgotten.
Society is quick to condemn, to judge after the fact,
but their absence loomed large when trouble was brewing.
Now that the carnage lays bare for all to see,
the forgotten are suddenly remembered.
Not out of sincere concern, no no no,
but from a self-righteous perch.
Where were they when the signs were there for all to see?
The self-absorbed were too busy with their
own affairs to acknowledge your pain.
The flock of sheep in wolves’ clothing were too busy ensuring
that hidden agendas were well concealed.
Somewhere between not being heard and not
wanting to burden anyone, stands the forgotten.
They berate the forgotten for not speaking up
when they needed help.
Yet they forget that in their hour of distress
the forgotten acted without prompting.
They throw around empty words like “shame”
and “pity” while listing all the things you should’ve
could’ve might’ve done.
It’s all too late now, isn’t it?
They forget how many times the line
“we’ve all got problems” were peppered in conversation,
as if to deter the forgotten from crying out aloud.
Their problems were always bigger,
and more worthy of attention than anyone else’s.
What will it take to truly be heard, without judgement?
Do you first have to be stripped of all human dignity
before your struggles are deemed worthy of attention?
Somewhere between not being heard, and not
wanting to burden anyone… stands the forgotten.