To Love Too Late

TO LOVE TOO LATE Some time ago, when I was hot and young and being older than my meager years, the know it all, on which my life was hung and openly displayed to all my peers, I played loves game, and made up my own rules, to hold and kiss not meant to be devine, and thought real love was only meant for fools, the broken heart would be, but it's not mine; life was a party time, and I employed each flaming kiss, each raping of the mind, then tossed aside as something I enjoyed not thinking there was something else to find; I was the man; enjoying every quest but when you came, I suffered my defeat, I then grew younger than I'd ever guessed, and loving soon became more than a heat; now through the years, I look back, wondering, where wisdom was, not reaching out for you, well knowing this was love's great everything, but reaching out was what I couldn't do. © ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet