THE FORGOTTEN ONES
A poem that begins with an abandoned doll and gradually reveals a parallel human experience: the pain of being forgotten by someone who once promised friendship forever. The fixed smile of the doll becomes a metaphor for carrying on outwardly while something inside has changed.
POETRY
Cassi Sullivan
I sit on your bedroom shelf
In my girly blue dress and sparkly tiara
With a plastered smile on my face
And a shiny gleam in my eyes
Wondering when—if—you’ll press my snowflake button again.
I want to tell you again:
“I’m so glad we’re friends;”
“We’ll be friends forevermore.”
But you walk into your room and never reach for me,
Never even glance my way.
You do not know what my heart feels:
My glassy eyes remain tearless, my plastic smile’s forever fixed.
But you have forgotten me,
And I know it.
I walk down my school’s hallway
In my girly, blue skirt and sparkly earrings
With a plastered smile on my face
And a hopeful gleam in my eyes
Wondering when—if—you will run up to me again.
Hug me, joke with me, laugh with me like you did when we were kids.
I long to express again to you: “You are my best friend;”
“We will always be friends.”
But you walk into school and never reach for my hand,
Never even glance my way.
Do you know what my heart feels
As I walk by with glassy eyes and a locked smile?
You have forgotten me,
And I know it.
We both know that time shelves what once was beautiful:
Weakening, distorting, warping.
With pre-molded smiles, we carry on,
Our plastic hearts growing harder.
