Regret seems to stick to my soul in perpetuity
like a tight glue that is reluctant to let me go.
It would take a person special to hold the key
being a heart that could make my soul grow.
Each night is a highlight reel of errors and failure
as I can never forget a past that haunts me still.
The memory is sharp, as I recall how things were
a sad burden like a boulder being rolled up a hill.
I try hard to shake these fears, reject the demon
that refuses to let me ignore an undesirable past.
To turn against one's own self feels like treason
and I refuse to say what's going on, even if asked.
A broken heart never fully mends as cracks remain
souvenirs from an affair that caused so much pain.
YOU ARE READING
Sonnets
PoesiaA collection of poetry written in a specific rhyme pattern. I hope you enjoy reading these sonnets as much as I did writing them.
