Too Little, Too Late

He doesn’t know
He’s about to lose her.
But she’s already got
One foot outside the door,
Her heart set on leaving.

Too little, too late,
He brings her flowers now
Every day.
Cooks her dinner,
And warms it up
When she comes home late.

But two months ago,
The tables were turned.
She’d call and he
Wouldn’t answer his phone.
Working late nights every night,
Living two separate lives.

Too little, too late,
She found someone else
To ease her pain,
Keep her company every day.
Someone who treasures
Every breath she takes.

But he doesn’t know
It’s too little, too late.
How true when they say,
You don’t know what you have
Until it’s gone.

Empty words and gestures
Won’t erase the pain.
She doesn’t look at him the same,
It’s a mystery to him.
And he doesn’t know
He’s already lost her.

© Lillian F

No, this poem isn’t about me. It’s also not very good. But I really wanted to post a poem…so yeah.



19 thoughts on “Too Little, Too Late

  1. Taking someone or something for granted is always, without fail, the kiss of death. You should make this poem into a Hallmark card. I could have used something just like it a few times in my life to make those breakups less traumatic.

  2. I never know what to comment on your poems. I’m no poem reviewer. But I’ll say this. Don’t knock your work. Perhaps it isnt your best, but leave that to us. We’ll be doing the tearing apart, not you.

  3. ^ Ditto everything he said. I’m often afraid of saying something insensitive or superficial but once again you’ve written something that’s simple and goes straight to the heart. Thumbs up, I say! 🙂

  4. I actually enjoyed this poem quite a lot! At first I cam here because your picture, I thought you might also have a maltese like me, hee hee, but I really like what o you have to say, keep it up!

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