Regret
Is a pleasure
For the
self-effacing
But you—
A lion mane
of hidden mistakes
Dormant, but aggravated
in this new-found territory
Awaiting
They day
They’ll pounce
But that sunrise won’t turn up
Forced to flee
They go
Where
They shouldn’t
Pride, gone
The lion
Nowadays
A mouse
Never understood
With no moves
written
Perhaps
That is
his new found requirement
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