Late Lessons

In coffee shops, they spill their hearts,

a truth like weight—too late to catch.

I listen, the crumpled note in my pocket,

a lesson buried, too thick to match.

To speak honesty, it seems so right,

but silence has clung, a stubborn friend.

Regrets like shadows inch into the light,

what I wish I’d shared, will never mend.

I took the wrong road, missed every sign,

while hours spent arguing with doubt

coiled in my mind like the tendrils of vine,

never learning what love was about.