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Regrets

Tied but detached, stored dry and dusty  
concerns , swept where they're not visible
sometimes, half ripped photographs
discarded, in the pyres of mistrust  
 
Face value that can't be recouped
the faded dress, the threadbare suit
smouldering embers that could linger
residue of sparks amongst the clinker  
 
The priest hole, somewhere to hide
in contentment's point of solitude
to grind the teeth and rationalise
smooth, emolument where I was branded
 
And never, did what right intended
the stains that etched
to hurt when rubbed, a tear that can't be mended
the barrel plumbed  into its deep depths
 
there lies the realms of my regrets
 
Written by slipalong
Published | Edited 4th May 2021
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