We Do Not Remember

A poem inspired by one of my best friend's very strong opinions.

We do not remember them, those who never were.
And why should we?
They never really have a chance to live.

There is no time for these things that make us whole.
No smile, no breath, no heartbeat.
Not for them.

We all die alone; only, we have someone to remember us.
There is no one to remember them.
They have never been.

They do not have a name, a home, a memory.
They have no graves; there is nothing to bury.
They are not grieved.

Instead, they are but simple, fleeting ghosts, and they are choking us.
Because we do not remember them.