A Secret Regret. Poem by Michael Gale

Secret....
Regret.

Both, go hand in hand...
Is this a label, or a brand?

That sticks to all...
As a thick
And pasty
Glue?

Regret...
It haunts us very well.

It breaths and blows, it's shallow,
changed, swell...
Beyond, beyond, it's hard to tell.

A difference pain inhaled sting....
A well, long ember-ed, burned
Remembering thing.

Tattooed as in a heart...
Sadly, taken, aback, apart.

This, end, we'll never, know whens't due...
Will i end, this rhythm too?