Regret

Is there any point to counting
The number of sins I have committed?

Like bricks, I can stack them to the sky
And sideways, I cannot reach the ends

I light the candles to ponder on
What I could have done differently

But the pain remains the same
Each time I look into the mirror

I feel inside the vitality of another day
But the mirror doesn’t lie about the past

In my eyes I see the look that stares
Someone I see that’s different, that’s me

And I carry the load, bending my back
Perpetually forced to carry the weight

Searching for someone to hear me, to listen,
To understand the tale of my thriving regret

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