Everything Is Exactly Inexact Poem by RIC BASTASA

at the end you weigh me again
i lack some points on the scale
a shortage of what you put in there
from the very start, i grieve
but it is late, i try to justify that
everything when they end
is exactly inexact by reason
of some unexplained feelings
and overspent emotions, yet
you are not convinced and you
shake your head and you said

'next! '

i grieve yet it is too late, at the
end there shall be no more
forgiveness that i once had
on this place of this earth

regret always comes late.