REGRETS

Regrets collect when we are young

and breathe through our aging soul

Young and fierce we climb on the tree called imbecile,

and when we grow, 

we glide our bodies through the hatch of those haunted lies,

the lies that we once used to tell ourselves,

we told they were of merit and virtue 

we told they'd never backfire 

we told they'd keep us fortunate 

we told they'd impose a bridge of happiness, for as long as we live

But truth be told

Today, they've brought us all here. 

Here, in the pit of lamentable

we breathe to take it all back

we breathe to cry peacefully

we breathe to sigh the distress

we breathe to be forgiven

Heal. 

Heal all of us.

We bow our head,

and pray to him.

Heal. 

Heal all of us.

So can we keep it as a secret anymore? 

Those bruises were deep

Those tears were wasted

Those wrecks were permanent

Those fib were tiring

Do you think we could all be healed?

NO.

Regrets collect when we are young

and even after our passing, are not settled.