Monday Again

I am an afterthought. I am no one’s priority. I am an extra seat at table My gifts are not wanted My thoughts go unheard My laughter an echo No one wonders Who I am What I think A hundred years from now Will I have made a difference? Will I leave a footprint In the decades to come? Will I be remembered Fondly or will some Distant child Judge me mad? Or think of me at all? If not, then what purpose Do I serve? And now it’s Monday again.