The Regrets Of 'too Late' Charlie Poem by Bryan Taplits

A detoured way,
Embattled day,
Just nowhere left to go,
I gave it my all
-No longer tall-
Enfeebled, lame-bent low.
If only I had mentioned me,
In days gone past, a blur.
If I had said one word to her.
Her pan I might have stirred.
But mute is all she got from me. So
She never knew my worth'-
I twiddled all my time away-
Leaving me next to an empty berth.

Someday I know I'll speak to her
Not hold my heart at bay,
Courage. Newly emboldened and
Revived. A swinging fresh new day.
I just hope that day is not too far
To gather up my fluff,
Thinking of all my clever witticisms-
Entertaining her with all my stuff.

However something scares me so-
Ash white my face, un-shaved-
It is this I dread:
Although we both not yet dead-
She could fold first-
And beat me to my grave.
And then it'd be too late for me-
Just me now, ever alone and with 'no proof'.
Drat! I should have spoke
-instead I choked-
And slayed my golden goose.