Aging Regrets

April 29, 2008
By Corinne Gilad, Boca Raton, FL

A quiet town, a silent breeze,
And there he sat, beneath the trees.
The shadows danced along the streaks,
Of years of dust left on his cheeks.
As he looked up, a twinkle grew,
As his dark eyes told what he knew.

Beneath the trees I saw him fade,
His spirit broken and betrayed.
His eyes caught mine, and thus I fell,
Beyond all reason, straight to Hell.
I lay on ground of tears and shame,
And then I heard him speak my name.

Within the darkness, his eyes shone,
They twinkled with a warmth I’ve known.
And ancient love coursed through my veins,
As I suppressed its bitter chains.

He called to me yet I remained,
As I stood fearful and restrained.
His eyes lit flames beneath my skin,
As they spoke of his pain within.

He looked away and softly said:
“I am neither alive nor dead.
In my soul’s darkness I reside,
Buried in my endless pride.
As my thoughts wander I regress,
To times long lost in your caress.
Do you remember days of old?
The times before my heart grew cold?
And sorrow fills my dying core,
For I have lost in my own war.”

I smiled gently and walked away,
Into the loving light of day.
I left behind a world of grief,
and found the fresh air of relief.

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