Forgotten!

26kwMBq

Do we really exist?
No, we do not.
We are nothing but the decorated intricacies of somebody else’s fancy.
We do not exist,
We are the smiling faces painted to suit somebody else’s lips.
We do not exist,
We are the dreams born to sequin somebody else’s eyes
We do not exist. We do not live.
Then where will we find ourselves?
Do we really cease to exist?
No, we do exist.
We do exist,
In tears that fail to slide down the cheeks,
In dreams that vanish before the dawn,
In the depths of the forgotten heart that still beckons to us.
We do exist,
In the words carved on our living gravestone,
Under the piles of mud that puts us to rest;
From where the heart still beckons,
Buried alive, to suffocate beneath the Earth, until eternal rest.

Copyrights@2016 Elsa Thomas.

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