Reid@YWP

The forgotten things are here
And the forgotten things are there
All the forgotten things are everywhere
Up and down the street
Just beneath our feet
And floating through the air
Forgotten things do not feel jealousy

I felt pretty today,

Like the glimmering sun.

I felt happy today,

Like nothing else mattered.

I felt confident today,

A million words fight to break free.

So many, that I cannot speak.

I try and I try, but it doesn’t matter.

I am mute, my voice lost to this world.

I have so many things to say.

So many emotions to convey.

We're backstage, giddy with nerves and

tired out of our minds, whisper-laughing as we mess 

with our hair, with each other, try to put on makeup in the dark. 

As the sun sets, and the dusk sinks into the world just like any night, the lonely wanderer treks up his mountain, once again. Nobody knows who he is, or where he came from. He’s essentially a folk tale, a ghost story.

Opportunity is but a moment in our lives,

that leads to both good and evil. 

It can lead to justice in court,

or prejudice on the streets.