Forgotten Ones like daisies in a jar.
Wilted, desiccated, without atar.
Our intention was never to wander away. Our love still remains but their love decays.

How could it not? Once they lay saturated in the blood of our love,
while we hustled away in a darting whirl. Your forgotten ones; we're they boys or girls? We're they soldiers, husbands, wives, or daughters?
We're they abandoned, neglected, slaughtered?

We forgot them and they forgot us. Twitching in our own abyss. We are the ones so distraught by these thoughts.
But weren't we the cause for losing what we sought?

All that remains are paper tokens,
Potpourrie petals, petrified skeletons of. Love we forgot on a shelf.
These are the things we can't ask ourselves.