We are the forgotten,
the restless souls that will never be at peace,
haunting the lower quarters,
where those who remember us dare not go.

Beneath you
our souls have been left to rot
Above you
the rabid cries of those who want to let them suffocate

Yes, I understand your concerns.
I have heard it all before.

But there is nothing to do.
There is nothing to be done.

After all,
we are the eternal guests of this wasteland,
this barren hell
where nothing ever lives
and nothing ever dies

It’ll always be like this

This is all I know
And all I will ever know.

I am told
we were once humble souls
who took pride in the roughness of our hands,
and the wrinkles of our skin,
that could tell you stories
of love and labor
dating back generations

But now we stalk the crooked alleyways
always keeping to the shadows
Hoping to remain unseen
Lest the wrong eyes catch a glimpse
Of what they hope they could forget
with an onslaught of scorn

Our cobbled roads lead nowhere
Our promised land is nowhere to be seen

All we have is a memory,
Ever fading, ever-elusive
Slipping out of fingers
that have been lined with cuts and puss
for so long
we’ve forgotten what it feels like
to latch onto something,
anything
and not want to scream

Thankfully, I have no life left in me to scream,
no tears in me to cry,
because after all those years
it’s clear to me now

We will always be forgotten