Too Late To Start Again

according to scripture and lore … it’s the family that’s worth fighting for …but when it’s time to give back … all family was lost to just one heart attack

the pictures saved were unearned

attempts to revive me were spurned

so no one else will know

dying alone a begotten fate somber

in a basement built against world war bombers 

it’s no good to be the king when

eternity is cast in engaging rings

with no one to dictate or demand

ones future is in good will hands

too old to dance too jaded to care

on todays floor there’s no one there

studying to become aloof

only when leaking moved to fix the roof

sleeping outside with

nothing but water and bottled pride 

with no one to play lying games

resigned to know each one is the same

so no one else will know

each summer is in the heart

only in a fall I learn it’s too late to start

only in winter do I yearn for last spring

no longer does the evening bell ring

once in favor of the church

always losing for what I won’t search

the candy smile that soon will balm scowl

muttering about another soiled towel

once there was a day for every night

grateful to see each dawn and its light 

now that there’s no water or rain 

there’s only letters and chest pain

all for nothing all for things not done

actions are words wasted on the young

with nothing to prove none come to mind

still the same man each one hoped to find

without the tarnish and the debt

better now that I assume regret

the shine of me succumbs to rust 

torn between what I can and what I must 

only those that know better keep

in contact by email letter

to make sure I will never know

challenged to make good of me

what I can’t learn I’ll never see

bits and bytes of my last heart

on no one’s shelf in no one’s cart

beside outdoor shopping malls

shamed to bender knee and crawl

the butt of slanderous cafe jokes

the cleanest lungs always smokes 

trained to hate those I’ve not met

trapped under blind faith fishing net

belittled for allergic wheeze

dismissed with a new year’s sneeze

attend each recital with support 

saved every blanket to build each fort

only to be sent home outdoors

a decade of icy cement shores

now busy with belated plan

still inside the loneliest man

without fear thirteen years ago

abandoned just so no one …

… else will never know

.

what we wanted

is what she wanted

.