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It's been a little too late to sweep the remnants of the self I thought I loved —the roses have wilted as the petals fell— the widows have lined up where their husbands died all too well
It's been a little too late to look at the mirror as the cracks spread too thin —the shards have cut deep to the bone— the blood has spread from the body of roses and thorns only to stain the floorboards with no one to clean it
It's been a little too late to hide the remnants of the self I thought I tamed —the roses have melted under the heat of the judging world— the children have been gutted —clean and dry— for the next feeding season
It's been a little too late to smile at myself in the mirror as the haze of the failures and roads not taken weigh down on my cheeks The earth has pulled me down with its claws—the talons have gouged out my eyes so I can't dream of a future I see
It's been a little too late for living and for innocence It's been a little too late for peace and happiness Darling, I'm broken and torn to shreds It's been a little too late for love
