Out of Breath
Too little.
Too late.
Comes too often.
Too soon...
For the nonbelievers!
With too much room,
Found left empty...
Of anyone concerned,
Who comes to make an offer to listen...
With a faithful excuse used!
And...
With time to spare.
For an expected reception.
But...
The quality of fresh air,
Once there...
Has smogged.
To leave too many choking,
On whims prioritized!
And bearing denials still left unaddressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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