Too Late

Anyone with a broken heart has at least once felt love, and that is better than having nothing. Just something I like to think about.

In the red autumn tide

And frozen winds of an alien place

A secluded gentleman with no words awaits

 

With blonde hair overturned by tornadoes

And clothes torn by hurricanes

His fingers drag through the dirt

Painting pictures with no meaning

 

Butterflies with no dimension dance across the sandy beach

Oceans of apathy dress the pretty grass

A broken heart pulses softly underneath piles of dirt

All for nothing

 

Many places once called home

Now all alone

An alien of life

An alien of humanity

 

Pedestrians see him as a sideshow

A freak that stares at dirt all day

And draws nonsense to ghosts

 

When they are gone

He cries to himself

The night sky by his side

Empathy in the sickly man's dead soul

 

"Please forgive me

I didn't mean to hurt you

I'll do whatever you want

Just please take me back

I love you"

 

It is all that is written in patterns

On the Earth's embracing canvas

 

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

A good piece of writing, honest and thoughtful, and the second to last verse reminded me of the simple beauty of John Lennon`s Jealous Guy.Lots to like here, good write.

[Alex Crow]

Deep and interesting. great work