You are so far down.
The rose falls upon you, yet
you are so far down.
No more discussions
about what you did last week.
No more of your voice.
Now dead and buried.
A pang of regret grips me;
I missed seeing you.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
You are so far down.
The rose falls upon you, yet
you are so far down.
No more discussions
about what you did last week.
No more of your voice.
Now dead and buried.
A pang of regret grips me;
I missed seeing you.
When the walls close in, I am fine.
When the life I wanted passes me by, I am fine.
When the days burn long, and I wish for cold weather, I am fine.
When I don’t get to see my loved ones for years, I am fine.
When I look back at what could have been, I am fine.
When you say you don’t care about family as I care about family, I am fine.
When I see my life moving along and not always improving, I am fine.
When we fight over petty shit, and I think back to 20 years ago, I am fine.
When I lie to myself about it all, I am not fine.
When I acknowledge the lies and leave all my regrets behind, now I am fine.