The Place for the Lost

There is a place,

Where lost things go.

Without a face,

And nobody knows.

Lost hearts.

Lost souls.

 

Piles of missing gold,

Land of coals,

Isles of sorrow,

Not found past tomorrow.

Not today nor yesterday.

 

Remaining lost.

Stray socks, papers, toys.

Hills and mountains that make no noise.

They stand stoic.

Silently, waiting from

The day that will never come.

 

Rising above the lost mounds.

Just hoping,

Waiting to be found.

 

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