Regret

i imagine getting older is a lot more difficult when you didn’t get to do what you wanted to when you were young

if you never danced naked anywhere– for any reason– in a crowd or far afield

time seems emptier when you never loved as hard or as often as your heart urged you… because your meekness of spirit kept your foot outside the door

the drooping eyes in the mirror reveal a dullness that belies the fact that you never met your match, your perfect fit… you squandered your vitality in human warehouses, static fields, killing markets or narcotic cubicles

you should really look a lot younger

aging is a yoke that breaks the shoulders and once sturdy backs of those who’ve never forged a signature identity of their own— truly found their strength

you had all the tools and opportunity to be far more successful but you were too busy selfishly replicating disseminating tabulating and playing dress up for ‘the adults’… something you never became

if time could be kind and rewind
you’re sure there’d be something better
if you could ‘do it all again’
there might be another chance to dance your legs down to the knees
to lift your voice above the glock and spiel
to get your due long overdue
love enough for everyone
a teaspoon of truth in a time of universal deceit

if you were granted another life…
another ride on the wheel…
you could do things a lot differently…

but… not likely

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