Rest Area Bulletins

Here's to the ones that time forgot.

The ones who couldn't to call, once lost.

The ones wounded before they grew skin,

Now memories in faded paper, on rest area bulletins.

There's people out there that still think of you

Even if lots of time and semis passed through

To the abducted, the taken, and those gone,

Whose lives were interrupted by those wrong:

Whatever happened to you at the end went wrong,

And nobody should be forgotten, not for long.

In conclusion: some are still around, some are erased

And either way: nobody deserves to be a cold case.