dear grief – 11

Reluctance,
is a spoon of regret,
mixed with the broth of fear,
and a dash of ego.

The medicine,
bitter as it may be,
has a limited time,
an appropriate window.

Late,
is not better than never,
it’s a lie to comfort you,
that you took way too long,
to overcome your self.

And now,
you have no one to grieve,
but your lowly self.

W.E.