Regret.

Memories, feelings and sorrow;

Are not for sale; not to borrow;

In the bazaar called life,

Where my heart is for sale;

My heart would shout

“Hey! At least hear my tale”

When I was young, made mistakes,

Never did it right, after many takes;

I would be sad, angry and mad;

I would cry all day long;

After all, it was my bad.

I am a teen now; expected to work hard,

I am a grown up now; bearded like a pard;

As I progress with my life, I feel like a prisoner;

A prisoner in his own home; with no air; no food.

I am unable to judge; is it any good?

I might be jolly on my face,

But sleep meets me after a race;

A race between me and my thoughts.

Thoughts that are deliberate; immediate and aimless.

Providing these thoughts a home; is not painless;

Thoughts that are hard; uneasy and make me

Regret…

Regret my growing up in this world of pain;

I do not find it worth, growing out of pain.

Regret my nature; NATURAL to me;

I am a small pawn; trying hard to be.

Regret my feelings; on which I have no control.

Can’t find a way out of this field,

I am injured. Still asked to score a goal.

Regret my choices. My choice to be;

Someone I admire, which is, ME.