A poem that came too late

If I could fill a glass

With all the words you’ve never heard,

I wonder if you’d even take a sip.

 

You died with a dry mouth.

 

Now we drink after it’s too late,

Like we’re swallowing the future of which you were robbed.

 

Didn’t you know that this was a drink

The liver can’t touch?

 

Everything you needed to know

Has been reduced to the words

Floating around our blood streams.

 

Isn’t it funny how we often think

There is nothing

Left to say.

Reviews

[Droll Prole]

This speaks to me of the regret of one passing and of things left unsaid. I like it a lot.