Regret

How, oh how did I get here?
Where was my head,
How did my leg walk me here
The soil of guilt,
A place not to visit 

I see no blood, 
Yet I feel pain, nay excruciating heart ache
That I could make the sun reset,
Or make the clock fleeting leg walk backwards 
My head would chose the path not taken
For my feet to walk.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace