The 22nd Hour

It's not too late, is it?

It's late; very, very late
So why did you wait
To tell me you love me
when I was resigned to this fate

I'm unsure if I can forgive
the neglect, the lies, the wrongs
Your calling at this hour
with no flowers, no candy, no songs

I've given up on what
I thought to be a love so true
I was already in bed, asleep
You showed up out of the blue

So go home to your house
I shall stay in mine
The 22nd hour is past the time
Your overtures, I must decline

9/2/22
Prompt: Write something with the number 22 as a domanant theme, topic, or idea in honor of WdC's 22nd birthday celebration.
Written for "The Whatever Contest." "The Whatever Contest -- Closed for Now" 
Word/Line Count:16 lines