Only the forgotten ones are
well & truly dead,
When their images disappear
from forgetful heads,
Their names are not spoken
from our dry dusty lips,
The dead are then forgotten,
when the memory slips.
The forgotten are those, who
lose their way in dreams,
Those, who are no longer now,
part of daily schemes,
They are the ones, who´s faces,
we find hard to recall,
The dead are then forgotten,
when our guard quietly falls.
You, I shall never forget,
with your image in my heart,
Your name upon my lips, shall
be uttered as they part,
Your face within my dreams,
I shall wear upon my sleeve,
You´re dead, but not forgotten,
& will never, while I breathe.
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