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
July 24, 2010 at 11:57 am
Absolutely love your images and word use. “…tale of my thriving regret”
July 27, 2010 at 10:20 am
Nancy,
You are very kind in your compliment.
Thank you
DS