Poetry With A Mission

...a thought provoking poetical exercise.


When It's Too Late

It doesn’t hit you at first. You close the door, calling out.
Silence. Then you notice something, as you cast your eyes about.
There’s a photo missing. Something else too. Now it hits you.
Something’s wrong. You can feel it. But what though? Something’s askew.

You race up the stairs. Go from room to room. Head back down again.
It’s then you spot it. That note. One that’s greeted many men.
Your heart sinks. Your stomach knots. Emotion wells up inside.
Your spouse has gone. “Won’t be back,” she said. You’re stunned, horrified.

Yes, it’s a terrible nightmare, one you’re not dreaming though.
You didn’t expect this. Thought she’d stay. But she chose to go.
You should have seen this coming, given wrong you’ve said and done.
But it’s too late now. Your turn to suffer. Your pain has begun —

For you loved her, didn’t you? Yes, you really did. How sad.
She’s gone for good now. Won’t change her mind. No, things were that bad.
She tried hard to make things work, despite the treatment she got.
And now, she’s emotionally scarred, yes, mentally shot.

I realize you’re sorry. But it’s too late. Can’t be undone.
You’ve caused too much damage. So now she’s left you. Cut and run.
It’s a lesson learned too late. But one I hope you have learned,
For you’ll be a better man — and wiser, where love’s concerned.

Yes, you don’t treat women like that. They’re not objects, you know.
You’re meant to protect them. Not harm them — for that’s acting low.
So, mind thoughtless words. Any selfishness. That macho thing too.
Treat them tenderly. Cherish them. And only what’s right do.

That way, you’ll find no note, no empty home, no missing bride,
And never experience that gut wrenching pain inside.
For women don’t leave good men, unless like you, they blunder too,
And some greener pasture that isn’t so green, foolishly pursue.

By Lance Landall

Too Little Words

They met one summer when she was there on holiday, and they were soon seen enjoying each others company,
A tropical sun drenched beach and adventurous coastline being the backdrop, along with a temperate deep blue sea.
And there, their feelings for each other soon grew, and his feelings far deeper than he realised, (so often the way),
But to their misfortune, they had an argument, and he in a huff, a mending foolishly chose to delay.

And thinking that that was it, she soon made her way to the airport, unaware that he had come to his senses,
But her boarding the plane, and he arriving a little too late, had its inevitable consequences.
And there he stood — yes, bitterly regretful, never to see her again, and all because of a silly spat,
Something that far too often plays a part in some budding relationship, (which just folds up as quickly as that).

Or in those relationships that have lasted longer, but not as long as they would’ve if someone hadn’t held back,
In other words, if the likes of pride hadn’t got in the way, and thereby, acted like the proverbial crack.
For during such foolish delays, anything can happen, and so often does, ending what could have been repaired,
That is, if someone had been big enough to take the blame, and their selfishness and sorrowfulness had declared.

Any injury or misunderstanding in a relationship, shouldn’t be left to fester, nor to chance,
Given that this world’s full of selfish opportunists, who, the feathering of their own nest will seek to advance.
But why let a little tiff, or even a serious exchange, spoil or destroy something good, something desired,
And especially so, when just two little but very powerful words like “I’m sorry” are all that's required.

By Lance Landall