This post is part of the Random Acts of Poetry prompt posted on the High Calling Blogs.

There’s something odd about
The insane dementia of forgetful people.

I’m sorry.
That should read
“The insane dementia of forgotten people.”
Not that the forgotten are somehow strange or less human,
But how curious are the circumstances of the brain
That allow me to forget them at all.
I know a man and a woman who were once forgotten
But God remembered them to a loving family.
I know a woman and a man who had forgotten,
And I wonder if they shall ever remember.
I too have forgotten and forget.
I never realized how hard it is t remember
A suffering face
or a little voice that cries out for more.
More food,
More clothes,
But most of all
More love.
How is it I can so easily forget a cry for love?
“Please sir, I’d like so more love.”
Then child, that which is mine I give,
Only pray I do not forget
As so many times I have.
As so many others have.
It is a curious thing
The demented circumstances of the brain
That allow us to forget.

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