Regrets – No Talent For Certainty

Common Thoughts #17 – Disappointing Others

If I could,
I’d make it right —
But I’m afraid
I’d make it wronger first

The night is full of ghosts, but not
The kind that you can see;
It is the sound of your regrets,
The ghosts of memory

The sounds of laughter, once, that your
Desire turned to tears;
The crying that turned angry, as
You dirtied with the years

And sullied everything, with all
Your selfishness and pride;
You close and lock the doors, but you
Cannot keep them outside

For everything you’ve ever done
Is there on your account:
And though asserting innocence,
There’s really no amount

Of justifying you can do,
When you are faced with ghosts
Who know the truth about you, and
See through your idle boasts

And straight to who you really are,
Alone there, with your shame:
There’s no one left to argue with,
And one left
To blame

He lost her long ago, he thinks,
And she was lovely, soft and sweet —
But somewhere there, amid the drinks,
She left and said, “I won’t repeat

This stupid hope I have that you
Will love me like you used to do.”
“It’s true,” he thinks, “that came to pass,”
Then pours himself another
Glass

He walked beside the frozen lake
Remembering when she was here,
The days of love and happiness
That gave way to the night of fear,

And loneliness, and jealousy,
With all their ruination —
And yet, it’s like she’s back again
Just seeing this

Location

it was a day, a memory,
a hoped-for thing that wasn’t sought,
i’d never known your secret want,
but i knew i really shouldn’t ought

the sky was gray and cold outside,
the moments hung, depending —
but inside, all was warm and wrong
when you and i

were blending

if I could bring the moments back,
the pictures frozen there in time,
we would be laughing in the snow
that now falls only in my mind.

for you were lovelier than all
this cold and wintered heart has known;
and i can see, unfaltering,
the love and grace that lately shone

from out of your once smiling face.
enthusiasm pure and clear
in moments that i treasure now
that you have gone
and i’m still here

This is a prompted post.

the wash that happens in the wake
of passions leading to mistake
will fast define the way we see
ourselves, within our misery

but do not view yourself as such,
though others use that portal —
for human is as human does,
and we are merely

mortal