Born Too Late

What can you do
When you’re born
Too late?

What can you do
When you’ve missed
The ones with something to say?

I take long walks
Down semi-crowded
Sidewalks

I can hear
The thumping

Tribal

Primal

Devoid of emotion

Masturbatory limericks
Clouding my head
Making it pound

It eminates
From cars passing
All the same

With a sigh
I drop my chin

What do you do
When you’re born
Too late?

All the beautiful women
Have nothing to say
They just want to
Dance and shake

But the dance has
Lost its art
Its elegance is gone

All that stands now
Is foreplay

Primal

Loveless

Nothing to do
When you’re born
Too late.

When love is an illusion
Wrapped in sweat
And stinking of booze

The dance floor fills
As the alcohol spills
And I am pushed

Pushed into the corner

From here

From here I watch

From here I watch the people

All the men
Who lean across the tables
On their elbows

They fein interest

They’re not listening
It’s a game
They’re not listening
They’re nodding their heads

But they’re not listening

They give all
The right responses
Pre-rehearsed and practiced

But they’re not listening

They can only envision bare flesh
Naked pleasure followed
By adandonment

Yet I am still listening

I know everything
And have nothing

Nothing to do
When you’re born
Too late.

Nothing to do
But sit and wait
For a time to shine

In a room with dim lights

About Justin

As a child, I remember my mother writing poems. Books and books of poems that I remember reading. She never showed them to me. I always just found them. To this day, if you asked me what they were about I couldn't tell you. I just remember feeling warm when I read them. I remember feeling love. View all posts by Justin

7 responses to “Born Too Late

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