Forgotten

Man walking alone at night

You have never been forgotten. No: not truly. If you had –
You’d understand that thus being forgotten makes one sad.
I speak not of merely “memory” – this meaning I take not.
But I speak about how people in their hearts have me forgot.

When “friends” (as such describe themselves) came seeking after me:
They want only to extort from me my time: or my money.
Such low scum have me forgotten. For they never gave a damn
What I wanted, what I needed. All their friendship was pure sham.

The church – it was no different. The pastors that I heard
Only wanted my slave-labour, as they put aside The Word
To extort the pews to give more: their own salaries to pay.
I was glad that they forgot me. So I went upon my way.

The family extended is as wicked and as bad:
They forgot to do me kindness when I was no more a lad.
Their skilled manipulations, and spiteful duplicity
They forgot I was no more their dupe: when man I came to be.

The world forgets me daily: as it feign would do me harm
Maybe kill me. Or just maim me. Me it threatens, gives alarm –
That my interests it will sure subvert in each and every way.
I’ve heard that Life’s Unfair. And I can see it every day.

Thus: forgotten by relations, by the church, and by false friends
I’m more joyful that I’ve ever been. Because their evil tends
For my good, because my Saviour promised that all things shall be
To my good because I love Him. And my Christ remembers me.


Like this poem? Read more poems by AntipodeanWriter.

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