Too Little, Too Late

This poem was written after hours of conversation online with George between 1:30 and 4:00 AM. This is a "the past is prologue" writing, not how I feel today, but for whatever reason it needed to be written.

You're not mine and I cannot ask you
To have no others in your life ~ it's wrong
For you've had that dubious pleasure:
Multiple women your whole life long.

He said It's true I may never be ready
To settle down with only one.
I can only learn that by myself, on my own
For the conflict in me rages on.

She said I'm a one man woman
I told you that from the start
I won't share my man with another
Once I've given him my heart.

You're a very special woman,
I wanted to give you the moon ~
I don't know why we're growing apart,
I think it was just too much, too soon.

So they continued with the understanding
They would not move love any more,
While they sought to resolve their conflicts -
Could he stay? Or would she show him the door?

Every hour they spent together
His desire for her grew stronger,
He was a player and she began to doubt
If she could stay with him any longer.

He said you've got to stop worrying
That I'll dump you by the side of the road!
She said it was you who created that doubt
And it's been a very heavy load.

Eventually she let him hold her
Yet she was still troubled by fear,
She asked Do I still have to share you?
He replied No you do not, my dear.

But did that mean for always
or just until this night ends?
Would she ever be more than his lover
Or forever be only his friend?

Too many times you've hurt me
By the thoughtless things you say,
Then wonder why I'm insecure,
I can not go on this way.

Baby, I do not mean them
And I never want to see you go,
But I cannot give you more than I have,
I told you a long time ago.

She asked him one last question
And in the answer he knew his fate,
What is the opposite of 'too much, too soon'?
With a sigh he replied... 'Too little... too late'.

Aisling