In the past, we grew apart.
Time did not heal the broken bonds.
Once I learned of her illness,
my pride fell and I tried to amend.
The days we were together were strained.
I am sorry for the wrongs I did her.
Her earlier life is what I truly missed.
Time passes slowly now that she is gone.
W. Wayne B.
Kindle poetry chapbook: Journey Through a Garden
Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb