I'm lost in the heap of the unfound.
Tossed away, as an old garment.
Within me, there's an untold story.
While I lived and listened to you
Never surrendering my own misfortunes.
Castaway in some box, or clutter.
Never being told.
My silence grows.
In time, I will not be remembered.
Just an old story.
Another tale.
Once vibrant and compassionate.
Heart strong and mighty.
Now frail to another.
Just another lost manuscript never to be read.
Thrown away.
A journal of a lifetime.
George Maris