Regrets Of What Is Lost Poem by Dan Brown

Years and years have passed,
but only now do I see at last.
My eyes are open now to my wasted time,
and its no-one’s fault. Only mine.

I’ve refused myself so many opportunities.
Opportunities of
Happiness.
Excitement.
Hope.
Even friendship.
Me closing myself
closed all those open doors.
Making sure that I jammed my fingers,
painfully, in the process.
I wish I’d been different.
I wish I’d just been me,
back then.
Different words.
Different actions.
Different thoughts.
All would have had
Different outcomes.
But here I am.
Just the same
as always.
Whether it led to bullying,
beatings and bruises,
or the happiness and company I craved,
it would have given me an identity.
A feeling of existing.
Which I not only craved,
but needed.
I didn’t open up.
I didn’t allow myself that.
I was too afraid,
back then.
I wish I could take this feeling
right here,
to those torrid times
back then.
Things would be so
Different.
But I can’t.
And I’m stuck here in this barren wilderness,
my emotions shattered by a depraved frost.
All I’m left with is bitter regrets.
Regrets of what is lost.

Years and years have passed,
but only now do I see at last.
My eyes are open now to my wasted time,
and its no-one’s fault. Only mine.