Forgot
As the days pass
to the coming of my birth
I look back and realize
how much I am hurt!
The things I've seen
the things I've done
the times forgotten
the times I've had fun.
No one knows
exactly what this means
but I can read these words
and tell you everything.
They make me, me.
They make my life unique.
They tell a lot
of the times I've weeped.
So as I tell
these words to you
think about all the things
that you have gone through.
This is when you realize
that we are quite the same,
we remember all these times,
these times we have felt pain.
But there is one that we have forgot
The love we shared for others,
the ones who mean a lot!
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.