Forgotten Child

a poem from my upcoming book; published books are at inkwhisper.gumroad.com

They left nothing behind.
No trace,
no shadow,
no incense jar.

No defiance flared.
The house didn’t crumble,
yet it’s gone.

I can’t reveal
where I first lingered
barefoot
or where a voice declared:
you’ll be a man,
if you outlast.

In that starkness
no signs remain,
no scratches on the wall,
no groaning door,
no etchings under the table.

Just a void
that no longer claims me,
and strangers
who forgot
I was a child.

Wiped clean,
so when they ask
where I’m from,
I’ve nothing to offer.