Lost Culture

Art by Patrick Driscoll

By Emmanuel G. Freeman

It’s funny how little things don’t matter these days,
But what are little things?
It’s funny how a person can be ignored so easily
But a person is not little
It’s funny how I was considered to be insignificant
But what am I?
Am I human?
A silhouette?
Am I a lint, lingering upon your coat?
Or an imagination of a potential bad decision?
I’m none of that
I’m none of what you think I am
Then when am I?
Why does it even matter who I am?
Do I matter?
I remember who I used to be but what am I now?
I am the guy standing by your traffic sign asking for help,
I am the friend you despised because I’m different,
I am the book bought but never read
I am the song sang but never heard
I am a result of all your insecurities,
I am the one that cares but never said a word,
I am the things you borrowed despite being part of your current possessions,
I am the obsolete thought, conversation you summarize in a simple text
I am your lost dream, what you inspire to be but never dared
I am your lost culture
Consider me lost or forgotten, but I was a thing of importance in the past
Ask your parents, they know what I’m talking about!

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