This my first attempt at a ghazal, a poetic form that relies on the repetition of the final word in each couplet. I don't often structure my poetry very heavily, but have been trying to branch out and experiment with forms. Let me know if you think I've succeeded.

Like all figments of the past

the history of a nation is forgotten.

Veins erupt on a young girl’s wrist

because she feels forgotten.

There is no hope in the new child’s eyes

because hope has been forgotten.

A god of the old world rests his weary head on aging arms,

his philosophy forgotten.

A wild storm rages as sailors sink below the waves.

To all but their families, they are forgotten.

A husband sits alone, staring at an empty picture frame.

Has she forgotten?

Two lovers, wrapped in silk and sweat,

the troubles of a harsh world, forgotten.

Like all figments of the past,

these hardships, too, will be forgotten.