deepundergroundpoetry.com
Too Late
A strange orange tinted cemetery
my estanged feet
walk around an unknown territory.
Churches and hearses
avenues lined by birches
inside the chapel
sit care assistant nurses.
In honour the hyms are sang
the voices resound
around
forever they will hang .
The sun stabs a glow
through the ornate , arched
pictoral stained
biblically paned ,window .
I look at the guilded coffin that is on show
I glimpse at a family I never really knew
and remember a great grandma
I will never now know .
Second cousins
who sit within unventured dwellings.
Glasses of a welcome wine
slip into my brain
as I try to regain
a feeble semblence of a prior time .
I then travel home
unravelled abit dazed ,and domed
Then I sit a while alone .
Myself I hate
for leaving it too damn late .
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Published 3rd Jan 2010
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3rd Jan 2010 1:30pm
... as sad as it is, has produced a worthy poem, Paul. I can totally empathise with your sentiments expressed here - reminds me of "Living Years" (Mike & the Mechanics)
3rd Jan 2010 1:41pm
Hello Abra my friend I'm pleased you like it and again thanks for the valued input you give me . I have to say your '20 turds ' post was f**king really funny , I laughed my head off at that , I like your astute way of saying things , without really having to . haha later my friend take care ....Paul
