Forgotten

I'm standing on a bridge, looking at the water. I'm holding a chain with a ring on it. It's swinging so close to the water, so close to it's story's end.
It makes me think about every memory that get lost. Every important message someone forgot. Everything just gone...
Like the water under the bridge.
It makes me think of fallen soldiers who died in meaningless war and battles. It makes me think of loving grandparents forgotten in institutions. Of artists that never found their way and that are now swimming in small circles, like fish in a bowl.  Of forgotten toys left to collect dust in an attic, while they were once the only thing that protected you from the monsters under your bed.
Makes me think of dry rose petals, ripped bookpages and forgotten languages.
Makes me think of stories never told, lost in thoughts. Of bartenders, now old, who once dreamed about becoming spiritual leaders.
It makes me thinking of melodies that pop in our head, but disappear before we get the chance to remember them.

I put the chain with the ring back safely around my neck.
Maybe I want to hold on to this memory for just a while longer.

Cicmila