With HindsightA Poem by Chris ShawDon't we all suffer from this?
Many, many moons ago
too many to confess, I revealed my reasons for parting and he would remember the rest. It wasn't my finest hour, while caught in the cold April rain, I stumbled on words I was saying and knew they were causing him pain. Oh, it wasn't the morning shower that drizzled his cheeks with wet, it was the message that I was conveying, so coldly without a regret. With hindsight I wish I had waited not knowing his days were numbered and the affliction that he would succumb to would attack and leave him encumbered. His fate descended in darkness, on reflection I wish I had known that his cards were marked by misfortune, a lament I can not atone. In a box in my loft I discovered concealed and hidden for years, a greeting he sent me one Christmas, now smudged by my much older tears.
© 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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25 Reviews Added on May 7, 2018 Last Updated on May 7, 2018 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
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