once
we learn...belatedly,
the truths of
our pasts, how can we not
mourn the fallow field
[sown, yet never harvested]
yet still,
even here...amidst
our deepest regrets,
we speak
amiss...through metaphors
unthought
by those that came
before
&
we can not
go back....hence, the
truths we speak -
however heartfelt -
are doomed to be misheard
no matter our sentiments
because,
I can
mourn children
unborn
and, I can regret
those sorely missed
and, I can cry
for those unwanted
amidst the fumes
&
rarely kissed
still
apologies,
we have none,
and futures none as
well,
as all we seem to
hope for
is a future where
none can tell
John Henry Calvinist
