neither here nor there…
a new one by Jean
I have a bone
to pick with you.
I heard you died.
You shoulda called.
I woulda been there.
I woulda told you
again
how much I love you.
I woulda asked
again
how much do you love me.
we knew
we know
the answers.
It woulda been nice
to hear it
again.
I missed your leaving.
Please don’t do it
again.
WHY?
Why do we wait till a person’s gone before we tell them their worth?
Why do we wait, why not tell them now they are the finest person on earth?
Why do we wait until a person’s gone to send them flowers galore
When a single rose would have meant so much if we’d taken it to their door?
Why do we wait till they cannot hear the good things that we might say?
Why put it off, why not tell them now and share in their joy today?
Of course we’re busy, that’s our excuse, but why, oh why do we wait
To tell a person our admiration for them until it becomes too late?
Quite the poet within, Joe.
Jean, Approximately 68 years ago I read that poem in the (I remember) Ann Landers column. I had a morning paper route and would read the paper before going to school. It was written by “anonymous”. I have kept it all these years, had it on the back of my business cards for over 35 years and believe it is how we should treat people.
It’s beautiful. Thanks for sharing.