I wish I could keep crying,
But tears wouldn’t fall off my eyes, That way no one would know How weak and desolate I am inside.
I wish I could sing madly
when I want to, they wouldn’t hear, That way I wouldn’t get snide remarks That my ears find hard to bear.
Oh how I wish I could hurt people
So says an unconventional hidden desire, Stab them in the front and kick at their faces, For then, some sanity would I acquire.
I wish I could a child become,
For they may fire their bullets and still be called sane, While veils cover the souls and minds of older men, Within which, a child as fickle is contained.
I wish I would be a leader,
A go-getter, an indispensable tyre, Friends envious for my headlines, Strangers worshipping the pretense they admire.
Wish I could love with all my heart,
Yet be not disposed as a lunatic. I wish I could see those fancy diners sacrifice their morsel for something.
I wish five years back,
I’d have made the right choices, Result of which, today, I wouldn’t be penning heart’s voices. Would be living. Reflective musings about Beginnings Poems about Past Intuitive interpretation on Regret
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