FORGOTTEN PEOPLE
H. W. Rryce
Forgotten frontier, forgotten roots,
Forgotten pioneering boots,
Standing bleached by wind and rain,
Standing still, but can’t sustain,
Beneath the louring, darkening cloud,
That with a clap of thunder loud
Would erase our pioneering past, forgotten
The story that was built to last.
Every shingle, every board,
Every wind and every chord
So backbreaking hewn by caloused hand
To craft a home, to build a land,
To fill with heart, and dwell with soul,
Once left behind to the bad dust bowl,
Forgotten now and left to rot
As we go headlong on without a thought.
Forgotten now the soul who built
The life that now we live without the guilt.
We forge ahead, forever getting, rarely give,
Even forgot the art of how to live.
Forgotten history, forgotten folk,
Forgotten that to have a wheel you need a spoke.
Forgotten frontier, forgotten roots,
Forgotten pioneering boots.
Sometimes we forget the role we play
And strut the stage, demand the pay,
Play the hero, forget to bend,
While friends and family reach wits’ end,
Left behind in wind and rain,
Unable to sustain.
Forgetting minds, forgetting roots,
Left behind by walking boots.
Forgotten frontier, forgotten roots,
Forgotten pioneering boots.
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