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When, in the none too distant future

You come to me with a repaired understanding

Of the way things are

The way they’ve long been

The way they will then inevitably be

I will say nothing.

There will be no dignity in a reply

No solace for me

No satisfaction in repeating words

I’ve a thousand times

In a thousand ways told you

I will not hear you.

No matter your words

Whatever their urgency

However countless your tears

You see chance only when it is gone

Hope when it has vanished entirely

And I cannot see you.

I do not.

In fact I haven’t.

I see not the proud

Hear not the selfish

Address not the foolish

They are not there

Nor are you

Whatever you may call yourself.

However important you may feel.

Those who cannot see

Can neither build nor preserve

They think not, plan not, are not

There is no justice in their wanderings

No life in those lifeless

And no life in you.

Nothing whatever.

Yet you will not again see my fury

What little you have is enough

To spend eternity with regrets

It is already too late for us

too late for everything

Except to spend even one more instant

With you.