Too Late Poem by Claudine Riel
Too Late
Sat around for years
Years of wonders and tears
Tears of anger and confusions
Confusions about all unanswered questions
Questions for the one holding the key
Key to the void I’ve felt and to the door of a mystery
Mystery that could undeniably change one’s life
Now on a mission, to undo frustrations
Frustrations about who you really are
Are they too blind or out of sight to see?
See faith and rejection working in conjunction
Have you ever wondered about that day?
Day when planted seeds were left behind
Behind love or lust, lies the reality
Reality about the only true story
Story of one empty soul in search for forgiveness maybe
Maybe it was just suppose that way to be
Like an unpaid fee to freedom
Freedom knocking at my door
Door unanswered couldn’t wait ‘til tomorrow
Tomorrow did hit rock bottom
Bottom of the ocean, dark and deep
Deep like the hole in your heart now aching
Aching heart, internal pain for you to keep
Keep hoping that one day her mind could be changing
Changing is what happened with her and him
Being apart was like a mirror was to image
One night of lust and 3 seasons changed, I arrived
For the obvious reasons, she or I had to be on our way
Maybe shame, regrets, fear or loneliness took over
Either way, he won that one and went on with their lives
Hiding the real story behind these tears
Tears now shed for all these years sitting around
Around again goes the tales
Tales I’ve read about decisions made
Made me wonder with more unanswered questions
Questions only she could’ve eased the pain
Could’ve? YES!
Yes my hopes and dreams have been crushed
Crushed, to one day ever meet the woman who gave me life
She was holding the key to her own freedom
Freedom to maybe change her mind
Mindset, one day finally came
Now she’s gone
Gone forever and now for both of us too late
The heartbreak of never knowing your mother is hard to bear, as you described so effectively. Nothing can alleviate the pain of what could have been, of never knowing the truth. Very nicely written. I like how you repeat the last word of a line and use it as the beginning word of the next sentence.
It is hard, as I was adopted and never did find out my true identity. I'll never get over that, being adopted is a life trauma, but I'm learning how to cope with it. Everyday is different, but some days are harder than others...the day I wrote this piece, was definitely a bad day for me. I'm just hoping that I'll be writing again soon...I haven't written a poem ever since; it's been 6 years. Feels like my mind has been blank ever since, and it's not a good feeling at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 11:07:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Now she's gone. With the muse of the pains of love. Nice work. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Edward for taking time to read. Always nice to get feedback.