The Day of the Doctor [Poetry]

Regret and Forget

This is what he's become,

The man who regrets,

And the man who forgets.

How many children,

But what would be the point!

On Gallifrey that day?

2.47 billion,

Such dreadful knowledge.

Burning of a planet,

But the future undecided.

One would

Destroy two races,

For the sake of billions

Of galaxies.

Regret and forget,

Holding onto the pain,

A shattered hero,

Looking for a place to rest.

Drowning his sorrow,

With flapping arms,

And the face of a twelve year old.

The Doctor who thought,

Who had 400 years

To decide.

Regret, or forget.

Both men with destinies,

But the one who forgets,

Hasn't really forgotten,

Yes, or perhaps maybe,

I haven't truly buried

This memory as deep

As I wanted too.

Both the Doctor,

A shattered hero,

And forgotten Doctor.

And the man no one remembers at all,

The one hidden from thought.

The Doctor born of war,

Who holds the weight of

The world in his hands,

Fate undecided,

But future beheld,

The men afraid

To be grown-ups.

The two Doctors,

Who drowned pain,

And sorrow of children dying,

Through acting like

Children themselves.

Regret and forget;

Neither is a good enough option.