Too Late

I thought I knew
Thought I understood
But now she was gone I had a new view
Of the woman that helped me step into womanhood

The house that had once been filled with love
Was now silent and empty
For she watched from above
I stood in a room filled with memories plenty

Yet it was a box that was strange
That caught my attention
One that had been stored and carefully arranged
To uncover it’s secrets my only intention

It wasn’t anything special
Just a beige box speckled with time
But held within this vessel
There was a story of a woman in her prime

There beneath the tissue
Sat lace yellowed with age
Amongst cards that said I love you
My emotions I could not gauge

With delicate fingers
I picked up the lace
When out fell some pictures
And I saw her beautiful face

Not marred by time
But filled with joy
With a man, arms entwined
Looking happy but coy

It was then I realised
With the lace in my hand
That the woman I had idealised
I didn’t understand

But now it was too late
I’d never get to know
The life that came before me and how we would relate
As my life became more complex, as I continued to grow

I sat there in tears
With questions unanswered
Questions I should have asked her over the years
Instead of just taking the love she had offered

And now it was too late…

Β© S.J Warner 2014.
(Picture sourced from google).

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Read my earlier work in Poetica