Regret

Here you are, with sorrow and regret.

No, this piece hasn’t finished yet.

You need one more touch, one more taste.

It’ll be good, it’ll be good, it’ll be too late.

Here you sit, with gray tears bound with grief.

Yes, they sting you, but how do you define relief?

Between the green woods, with a high moon,

You’ll see life breathing, and yet leaving you soon.

Here you lie, with your hands on your face.

Don’t worry, this will be easy to go and erase.

It’s 3 AM, and your mind is slowly sinking,

As you’re asking yourself daily,

“What the hell

was I thinking?”

Underneath the broken glass, shines a new type of light.

Morning will come, but now deal with the fright,

Of your uncertainty and doubt a fear will emerge

And in it your regrets will gain power and surge.

Maybe one day I’ll express my sorrows.

But those are the works and trials of tomorrow’s.

Here I am with my tears

And regret.

No,

This piece,

Hasn’t finished

Yet.