Too Late Poems - Poems about Too Late

Too Late, Time's Up

Too late...for first impressions 

Too late...for last reflections 

Too late...for long discussions 

Too late...for lost objections

Too late...for mending fences

Too late...for new romances

Too late...to pay the Piper

Too late...for second chances

Too late!!!

IT AIN'T TOO LATE

It started off so well, so good,
Every language we spoke, understood.
Forever, we thought, it would last,
Yet somehow, those moments slipped past.

We carried happy souls inside,
But now we ride a different tide.
To make amends, it’s not too late,
Yet pride keeps tossing feelings like fate.

Yes, things aren’t well, yet we let them slide,
Waiting for truth, while we

Before It’s Too Late

Be careful with kindness, don’t give it away..
Too much of it leads the heart astray.
It’s not always ego when drawing a line..
Sometimes it’s courage.. a much healthier sign.

In the end, it’s just you in the fight..
So guard your peace, and sleep well at night.
Things will shift and people will stray..
Be true to yourself, and don’t

Realizing life is short too late

aborted ambitions
time squandered
dreams abandoned
a life mismanaged

a ship with 
no one at the helm
subject to the currents
and the whim of winds

idle and adrift
we've run out of options
out of time and
out of excuses



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Submitted on June 2, 2025 for contest YOUR CHOICE T sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention

Tomorrow will be too late

Employing absolute freedom innate,
as the subject, the object and the means
the triad of energies shapes our fate,
with the light of Self veiled behind five screens,
the densest being our organic form,
God’s vital life breath enlivening dust,
entwined with mind, conjuring a thought storm,
bliss body and childlike heart that does trust,
being then the hurdles we need to cross,
to

Too Little - Too Late

Not so much
a lie
with little
truth to tell

Not so much
goodbye
with greetings
gone to hell

Not so much
romance
with feelings
dead or pawned

Not so much
to dream
with sleep 
— bereft and gone

(Bryn Mawr College: May, 2025)

Letter That Came Too Late

I opened it like a wound
unwrapping itself,
the envelope soft from time,
your name trembling
in a handwriting I had learned to forget.

You said sorry.
In ink, not voice.
In past tense.
As if my years of silence
were a thing you could fold
into a paragraph.

I had already buried you
in the quiet way people bury the living,
not with dirt,
but with detachment.
I built

too late

do you think that it is a date?
is it too late to clarify?
is it too late to take?
to take back the words I always would say?
do you think that it is a date?
watch horror movies over call?
Is it too late,
to tell you that I don't like horror?
did you take that the wrong way?
not in movies,

It's Not Too Late

No, it's not too late; 
It's n e v e r too late
to make your wrongs right,
to chase after dreams,
to a p o l o g i z e.

It's not too late
to fall in love,
to tell someone
your true feelings...

or to try
again, as 
long as you 

have breath 
within...

you.

Too Late The Hero

Shadows fall too deep, 
Empty crown, a silent plea, 
Justice sleeps below.

©bfa032325

too little too late

the pulse of humanity
shudders in throbbing pain
meanwhile muffled cries of hopelessness
await redemption as tears of time
may possibly wash away
man's devastation


AP: 3rd place 2025

Too Many Too Late

Opportunities come in varying disguises 
Chances missed always causes disgusts
Nevertheless, time always is evolving.
The wheel can't be reinvented  but requires
 improving
Too Many Too Late. Time and chance has passed.
The next generation will seize the moment that is paused.
  (Written 12th March, 2025)

Too late to Save the World

L i f e
I sense your perplexed pulse
within pirouetting pearls,
steeped in sinister streaks,
while fading sparks
of dulcet stars
swing from threads of darkness
on the verge of vertigo,
living in minutes
caught in the crawling contradiction
of tainted t i m e…

O’ f r a g i l e hummingbird,
I hear the hushed hymns
hovering through the ebony haze,
awaiting unlocked gates
adorned with

Too early in my life it was already too late

Too early in my life it was already too late,
as if the dawn had rushed to bite the edge of the night,
and the stars, those relics of time, had faded before I could grasp them with my gaze,
a journey where the trains depart before I reach the platform,
and my thoughts weave into imaginary journeys through

It is not too late to learn how

It is not too late,
To learn how to extrapolate,
As your ideas may not resonate,
With those who see the future state,
Of things, if your ideas are allowed to eventuate,
With no time to contemplate,
What could end up on our plate.

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