Too Late For Friend
There’s a path or reflection
through the days of misconception,
where I once was what I am not,
and everything I lost.
Now are the days of construction,
of mending my own destruction,
the fire that had commenced,
started by my own breath.
I still see a smoldering flame,
hidden beneath all the blame,
I’ve left for myself,
in a jar on a shelf,
marked with an x,
chug and hope for the best.
(2013)
