Ann Marie Forest

Rookie (09/09/60 / Crescent City, California)

Regret - Poem by Ann Marie Forest

It’s funny sometimes the way things turn about,
Just when you think you have it all figured out;
You think you know what is what, and what is right;
You try to move on, but try as you might

Just when you think, you made the right choice,
From the depth of your mind, you hear a little voice;
To tell you something is not quite right, something that makes you fret
Something that nags at you..... the voice of regret.

You want to shake it, but it’s still there,
And the longer you stay, the harder to bear;
The choices you made, without thinking things through,
The what if’s, that keep haunting you.

It’s hard to swallow that you made a mistake;
You think on it, until your heart aches;
And no one can help you, cuz’ you don’t even know,
where to start, where to end, where to be or where to go

You know deep inside, that you made a mistake;
More time should have passed, since the heartache.
The time to think, and the time to heal
Time for yourself, to know how you feel.

Pain was replaced by illusion of another;
Until newness wore off; so soon you discovered,
the words from within, became clearer to you;
The regrets have much, of you.

Your heart and thoughts wander, to what might have been,
You regret that you never, made your amends.
Blinded by hurt, drenched with the rain;
Sheltered by rebound, who can’t fix the pain.

You tell yourself, that it’s all okay;
You tell yourself, that it’s better this way;
But deep down inside, you and I know.
Until it’s resolved...... nothing can grow.

The little voice, in the back of your mind,
Will never stop nagging, not even with time.
As long as you know, there is something still there;
It’s only more burden for you to bear.

I have no answers, for what you must do,
All I know is...... I care about you
And I want what’s best, for both you and I
I’d rather let go, than to live a lie.

Only you know, what you feel inside,
But as time goes on, it gets harder to hide;
What becomes clearer to me, with each passing day
I can’t let you hurt, so I can’t ask you to stay.

And I can’t give my all, when I know how you feel;
Wanting to know what I have, is for real.
I want to be first in your heart, even yet;
But will never be, if it’s filled with regret.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Poem Edited: Thursday, February 28, 2008

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