Cold,
A hard chair,
The warmth seeping out,
Of the food that laid before me
Regret,
Such easy words,
Could have easily been said,
Oh the things I could have said
If only I had known of this pain,
Had it gone my way,
I would rush to their side,
And tell them everything I believed
But now I sit in this hard chair,
Resentment towards myself,
Guilt in my conscious,
Regret tormenting me
As this was one of those times,
Where things were better left said than unsaid
YOU ARE READING
Life
PoetryA collection of poem's written about events, feelings, thoughts, and emotions. Like a diary to vent out a part of ourselves that no one will every know about; the poems are simply an attempt to capture the most unusual and abstract aspects of the hu...
