Eternal,
Fading through the decades,
Holding onto our memories.
They're all we have.
Invisible,
Even to those we held dear,
Who we'd give our lives for.
They've moved on.
Expendable.
We thought we were important,
We thought that we mattered.
What fools we were.
Existence,
Deemed as false, ignored
Forgotten as unimportant.
We're nothing to them.
Cast aside,
He doesn't realize, though,
That I'm not imaginary . . .
Just a friend.
Author's Note:
I think I had my characters in mind here, specifically Joshua. I wasn't writing or drawing or thinking about him for a while, and I wondered where imaginary friends went when nobody thought about them anymore. I know that they're only ideas in the first place, but . . . well, I blame Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and the Island of Misfit Toys, and Rupert, and basically everything that showed toys coming to life when nobody was around . . . gave me a specific mindset. And they wonder why I have trouble throwing stuff away.