I don't regret
things I should have done,
poor decisions,
words best unsaid,
if I have made amends,
apologise,
learnt lessons from mistakes.
How different those
where ruthless time has driven on
and like a hit-and-run, left carnage
in his wake - but all's too late to change.
Then painful, futile guilt,
like a wild dog worrying a bone,
eats me - and nothing can be rectified.
© Gill Dunstan
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