This one is special to me. I hope you enjoy.
Regrets in life.
We all have them in our heart.
They cut like a knife.
And will tear us apart.
Roses are red.
Peonies are pink.
Regrets have bled.
Bled into the sink.
The sink made of crushed dreams.
Regrets in my life.
They can cause breaking at the seams.
But they cut like a knife.
Regrets of the past.
Either hidden or able to show.
They can last.
They can always grow.
Regrets of the future.
As they are full of fear.
Fear of the suture.
As they have a regretful tear.
Regrets in life.
We all have them in our mind.
They can cut like a knife.
And will be easy to find.
Regrets about death.
It is always brief.
Like a breath.
The regrets feed on grief.
Regrets in time.
Falling apart.
It ain't a crime.
But it is crime to the heart.
Regrets about the end.
Worried about later.
As that can bend.
Bend you and make you cater.
Make you cater your life.
Regrets made soon.
They will cut like a knife.
As you look at the moon.
Roses are red.
Peonies are pink.
Regrets have bled.
Bled into the sink.
The sink made of crushed dreams.
Regrets in my life.
They can cause breaking at the seams.
But they cut like a knife.
Regrets are black.
Just like guilt.
They can go out of whack.
When they are built.
Roses are red.
They mean fertility and love.
It makes them look like they bled.
In the sky is a dove.
Regrets of love.
They will never let you free.
They may shove.
But try to be filled with glee.
When I am sad.
You are glad.
When you are kind.
I am hard to find.
Because i am lost.
In my imagination.
I will love you at any cost.
So I will meet you by the station.
Regrets about hate.
Hate on those we like.
They made be too late.
But they can hurt like a spike.
Roses are red.
Peonies are pink.
Regrets have bled.
Bled into the sink.
The sink made of crushed dreams.
Regrets in my life.
They can cause breaking at the seams.
But they cut like a knife.
Regrets of the past.
Either hidden or able to show.
They can last.
They can always grow.
Regrets of the future.
As they are full of fear.
Fear of the suture.
As they have a regretful tear.
A tear made of confusion and hate.
Hate for the thing that they couldn't do.
As when they try to accept their fate.
They'll never know where their regrets go to.
Follow your heart.
Follow your spirit animal into love.
As the regrets return starts.
Make it shove.
Shove the regrets into the bays.
The bays where you can finally let go.
You will finally have their days.
But the regrets might say no.
