The Point

There comes a point
where neglect wins,
when nothing is salvageable
and all is ruin beyond repair,
where optimism loses,
hope drifts away like dandelion seeds.
and nothing is left but rust and memories,
where no one can save you
least of all yourself.

It is slow coming, this place in time,
with a million tiny choices
that could change the tide,
but only if you make them
before there is no more
to save.

About this poem

Take care of your heart and soul. It is precious.

Feed it. Protect it. Share it. Do not let the world suck you dry. It will try. And sometimes it wins.

But only if we let it.

Tom