Spilt Milk Poem by Edwina Reizer

No sense crying over spilt milk
That slowly grows sour.
For they are useless tears, my love
in every approaching hour.

For who of us is without fault
And who of us can say
they've never cried over spilt milk
When it's come their way?

The times are dark and lonely.
And nights become for me
time to repent my foolishness,
time for me to pray.

Mistakes come along for everyone.
No one can escape them.
But always there's a chance to change,
not let them happen again.

I believe in the goodness of people
who acknowledge their mistakes.
I look forward to each and everyone
who has suffered heartaches,

Being free from the feeling of guilt
with promise in their eyes
To try hard to dry up the spilt milk
and come to a compromise

to never let it take them down
or discourage trying again.
For what is life without error?
A place where when we die
we leave with regret for all that was left
because we did not try.