Regret Poem by R.B. Gyle
Regret
REGRET
Nails sticking straight out of wood floor plank.
What is clarity in the dark
but a hopeless dream. We struggle
with candle sticks and fumble
with phosphorous. Then writhe in pain
and reach down blindly to stop the bleeding
because of instinct only, no aim
or reason, asking ourselves
like madmen, over and over
Why?
Why?
Why?
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4/26/2024 7:59:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I like this poem. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.