When I see that bridge,
all the memories come back.
None of them are good.

It all happened that day.
I can recall it clearly,
as I stand on this big blue bridge.

I first saw this bridge earlier today.

I was walking with my dad,
and he was talking,
talking about how he came here often,
as a child.

Now I am a child,
with the mind of an adult.
I also come here often,
but not for the same reason as my dad.
That day, when we were having
one of those Kodak moments,
A faint noise interrupts our thoughts.

Marching feet,
getting louder.
Stomping feet,
now are faster.


People rushing by.
Confusion and fear mingles with them.
My dad picks me up,
and off we go.

We get to the end,
of that big blue bridge
before anyone else.

I am now safely behind a tree,
thanks to my dad.





Then the screams start.
I look into my dad’s eyes,
and see what he’s going to do.
I know what will happen.

He tells me he loves me,
with tears streaming down his face.
He turns around,
and steps back onto that bridge.

A few minutes later,
I hear his scream.
Then the tears start falling,
like fountains from my eyes.

Now I know.
My dad is one of many.
They will always be with me,
but to others they will be forgotten.

Most of that bright bridge,
Is now a dark, sad red.

Red with blood and misery,
red with hatred and treachery,
red with fear and anger.
I’m just like the bridge,
we saw too much,
we felt too much,
we heard too much,
we know too much.

As I stand here on this bridge,
I can feel the souls lost,
the souls forgotten,
the souls never heard about.

Every day I stand here,
feeling for those who were lost,
lost because no one cared.
They were detested.

I know there are none like me in this place.
There will be no more.
I am the last, the voice of the forgotten ones.

They won’t find me.
They won’t do to me what they did to the rest.
Instead, I will get them back.
I will make them pay.


I will show them the bridge,
I will fight back,
I will make them see that we matter.
I will help those who are all over this bridge.

They can’t hide,
I will be everywhere,
I will see everything,
I will be an unwanted parasite.

I will haunt them.
They will be horrified by me.
I will prove to them,
that we are worth caring about.

Because I know, they will be the ones scared.
They will be warned.
They will be shameful,
and they will know it.

I know there are none like me in this place.
There will be no more.
I am the last.
The voice of the forgotten ones.


I won’t came about them,
just like they didn’t care
about those who were forgotten.
They will feel abandoned.

I will make them hear the cries.
The noise will be all around them,
they will be tortured by the sounds.
They will hear too much.

I will make them see all the lost souls,
they will see that bridge.
They will be mortified by what they see.
They will see too much.

I will make them feel the trembling of the earth.
They will feel the vibration of their stomping feet marching in unison.
They will feel the rush of innocent people moving by, running for their life.
They will feel too much.

I will make them know the pain.
They will know what happened, the truth.
They will know what they did.
They will know too much.


Then they will see too much.
They will hear too much.
They will feel too much.
They will know too much.

I know there are none like me in this quiet and hateful place.
There will be no more.
I am the last,
the voice of the forgotten ones.