For the forgotten

When you speak of the forgotten,
Do not forget to use words like
Broken, dead, lost, silent.
Do not use their names, no.
Use pronouns like she, him, they or
Generic nouns like father, daughter, child.

We lie still like wet leaves on the cold humus.
Our tears are the shroud that hides our faces
In the darkness of our pain.
We do not speak of who we are
When the phone rings and voices ask
Between failing network signals
And background music.
We speak of home and the beauty
Of friends we used to know
And food we used to love.

When you speak of the forgotten,
Do not forget to use verbs like
Torn, pushed, fallen, bruised, crumbling.
Do not forget the time and atmosphere;
Anytime is fine, day or night
But it is always dark, always silent.
Do not forget to lock the doors,
To force them open, to smile,
To mumble, to count prayer beads
With trembling fingers, and blood too,
There must be lots of blood and fear
That stinks, that stains, that steals.

We do not speak of what we have seen.
Our lips are sealed shut in the weary hours
Before dawn crows and cocks lie silent
After a night of watching
Their chicks rise and fall.
We cover our scars with scarves, shawls
And cufflinks, and when we blow smoke
Into the cold, out prayers tag along
Like errant nephews.
We do not speak of what we know
When we like on couches
And try to explain why the sun is red
And the moon is yellow.

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_{pixabay: pexels}

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©warpedpoetic, 2019.