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Regret
May 9, 2019
He comes to see me in the night,
And we begin to talk of the things we have done.
He reminds me of everything I did not do that one time,
And then he seems to have won.
All I do and all I have done,
Sometimes I missed out because of other things.
Yet he still does not let me overcome.
And it is like he plays a symphony of sad violins.
He still comes to me every once in awhile,
And I try to run but he follows me wherever I go.
A list of all the memories I missed he compiles,
And regret knows he will always be with me when I am alone.
© Megan W., Ocala, FL
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This poem is absed off the work of Emily Dickinson and personifies the feeling of regret.