Out of time for second chances

Your second chances turn to shadows

I wait and drift

Is fear at the wheel

Steering into isolation

From the loss or from you?

Through storms and droughts

I let my rose bloom,

growing in arid soil

I have cut the thorns so the bloom is what you hold

I see you quenched

But I have run out

My petals wither

A drop of regret remains

I am staying,               my roots deep

Trying to bloom in the sun

The second chances turn to hours

My forgiveness            your will

No water for our parched souls

My roots dry out

Your thirst swells                     my thorns have grown

I will not be yours to hold

*This poem was published in the Spring 2026 edition of American High School Poets.