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Poem

As we age we regret words of anger and spite
That were heard and remembered and can't be unsaid.
The remarks we thought clever or proved we were right
That resulted in losses of friendships instead.

All the heartbreaks that came from suspicion and doubt,
The betrayals and hurts we refuse to forgive,
The companions and love that our pride has cast out,
And the chances we missed that we'd like to relive.

All the pathways not taken and bridges uncrossed,
All the times had we acted, a difference made,
The potential delights that timidity lost,
And the kindness and debts that we never repaid.

All the secret dishonors we long to forget,
And the wrongs we inflicted in order to win.
For the strongest of sorrows are those of regret,
And the saddest remembrance is what might have been.

                              * * * * *

       Or as Whittier phrased it, far finer and first:
           "For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
       the saddest are these:  It might have been"

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