Student Publishing Program ::

David An

Requiem for the Forgotten

Forever shut and made of wood,
Ancient and creaky, I'm no longer good.
Musty cups repose in me by the score,
I'm just a cupboard, nothing more.

Covered with dust, rotting in the core,
I'm no longer of interest, just a bore.
With rusty hinges and a broken door,
I'm just a cupboard, nothing more.

Spectators stare at the strange antiquity,
Outdated and unwanted. Just a curiosity.
I sit here but you simply ignore,
I'm just a cupboard, nothing more.

Rusting away in the quiet room,
In this silence it might as well be a tomb.
To their sights, I'm just a sore,
I'm just a cupboard, nothing more.

Meandering in solitude, I guess,
This is what they call loneliness.
The wordless scream for help implores,
I'm just a cupboard, nothing more.

One gets used to silence and the emptiness,
The shadows, and the feeling of hollowness.
It's fine if nobody watches your tears pour,
I'm just a cupboard, nothing more.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2012 EDITION]