Too Late
 
Some days are filled with darkness,
Much like the dead of night,
With sorrows that fill up my soul,
Like clouds blot out sunlight.
 
Bumps found in the road we take,
Are often of our choosing,
When we take detours in life
So that we end up losing…
 
Our sight of things important,,
That hold the greatest meaning,
Like trees before a mighty wind,
No longer tall, but leaning.
 
Too late to calm an angry sea
To still a stormy wind,
To put together just once more,
The love we knew back then.
 
So that I’m left with nothing more,
Than memories from the past,
Of dreams we made so long ago,
Of love that did not  last.
 
©  2003  Loree (Mason) O’Neil
 

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