Forgotten by Time

There was a boy. He would spread his wares
in our alley. The strength of the hero, Rostam,
roared from his shoulders,
he had the features of a Joseph,
his hair was the torch of Zoroaster,
flaming with ancient times.
The young boy sat on an old stool,
saying goodbye to his rose-scented time.
His sweets had no takers,
sweating in their paper wrappers;
his cheap cigarettes knew
that the point of their lives was to burn;
his soaps longed for the day
they would lather in beautiful hands and die.
The boy turned his eyes
towards passers-by
and, pondering the to and fro of cars,
he didn't think of spring coming and going.
The summer of his youth
was dissolviing into sunset
and winter would wrap him in snow.
Happy? Unhappy?
For he was oblivious to love,
for the margins of his life were rusting,
for he mistook the moon's halo for the moon.
Ruthless life had sat a young boy
on an old stool and forgotten him.


1 Beau McGlasson

Whoa! This poem is a true testament to how amazing the written word can be! Thank you so much for posting it!

2 Stephen Phillips

I loved this poem and it has completey changed my outlook on the world and life!

I loved it!!!! 5 stars totally.

3 kamol

Frazona yagona shoirae hast ki serash barobarvazni shoironi classicii forsu tojik ast

4 Saimon

Thanks for all your comments.I am ueenciddd about shit shite and poo. I had to say poo on the radio as it was Sunday morning and the citizens of Liffey Valley had to be taken into consideration. I think poo is too juvenile. Shit is too coarse so I used shite. What do you think?I was also ueenciddd about midden because I know what it is but I’m not sure others do. And cheater? Totally!

5 Priya

Admiring the persistence you put into your blog and in depth imfornation you offer. It’s great to come across a blog every once in a while that isn’t the same unwanted rehashed material. Fantastic read! I’ve bookmarked your site and I’m including your RSS feeds to my Google account.

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