The Hourglass
What might have been but wasn't,
we all have writings in this book.
Our tears collect in bottles
marked with, "Grief," because our look
was in the wrong direction, our time
was spent elsewhere. We forgot to
listen closely, didn't say the words,
"I care." If we'd known someone
was needing, we would have
helped them ease their pain.
But we didn't. Now we suffer
from thoughts we still retain
within our souls, which are now
bent over from the shame. We
feel like bartering with the wind
to quiet this relentless blame
and guilt. We need to climb above these
thoughts, not mourn them as they pass.
If someone calls, we'll answer;
we'll refill the hourglass.
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