July 17, 2015

 

 

Silence fell, all but for a sigh.

The final act, was the last goodbye.

It’s over now; wasn’t meant to be,

but I still have you, you still have me.

 

It doesn’t work like that.

All cannot be well.

The cost is high.

The tear ducts daily swell.

 

And the point quite missed,

for with the morning mist,

returns the horror:

‘Why didn’t I resist?’

 

What was done was wrong,

and known then,  as now.

No amount of time puts right,

the past somehow.

 

The future open-ended

on this rocky ride.

Natural deaths have happened,

but still no turning tide.

 

One last chance was given.

The question asked out loud.

The same reply came back –

‘Not now’ was said, head bowed.

 

Couldn’t look me in the eyes.

Once more a bolted door!

‘Why open a can of worms?’ was said,

like oft times before.

 

At that point realised,

was the damage done.

The magic solution,

on it’s head, had spun.

 

A new tomorrow;

another new start.

The future never can, or will,

repair a broken heart.

 

And taken to their grave,

was our deadly deed,

leaving me custodian

of worms that bleed.

 

And taken to my grave,

will be this tale I tell,

in case, they’re still watching

and see me in hell.

 

 

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