Sometimes the regret hits me.
I look at the date and count how many months you would have been.
How many weeks I would have known your scent.
Your cry.
I would have protected you. Given you what I didn't have.
But I was scared and unprepared.
So now I deal with the regret silently.
Because it would be hypocritical of me to complain; I have always laughed at people who shot themselves in the foot and cry after.
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Pink Blunts - Poetry
PoetryPink Blunts is a collection of my minds ideas. Let's say I'm trying to make sense of my brains none sense! Whether high or sober, our hearts and minds never stop wanting... wanting more in life, more love, hatred, lust and other things. We're all...
