Best Remorse Poems
Running through the Black Forest of no tomorrows, my heart beats at warp speed as the hideous howls draw nearer. My thoughts briefly digress to the world I knew before. I had no time for God or religion. My only goals in life were self-centered and ambition oriented. O how I long to return to my yesterdays! I would change my ways and repent. This beast will surely end my life of todays and cast me into an abyss of eternal darkness and oblivion. Instinctively, I get down on my knees and pray, but alas, 'tis too late, too late. My executioner has come upon me. I bow my head and willingly submit to the inevitable.
Blood red moon tonight
Starry skies have disappeared
Apocalypse now
Locked within the confines of my mind’s dark cell,
Both convict and captor, a self made hell.
Each thought a shackle, every memory a bar,
Confined by my own mind, a prisoner of psychological scars.
In this self-imposed exile, I am utterly alone,
A solitary figure locked in a world of dark, cold stone.
Forsaken by hope, abandoned by light,
I dwell in the shadows, a prisoner of everlasting night.
These lonely walls echo my silent screams,
As I fight with demons, trapped in dreadful dreams.
I reach out for redemption, but find none there,
In this self made prison, my remorseful soul lays bare.
For I am the architect of my own demise,
Sentenced to solitude, beneath storming skies.
Cramped within the confines of my own creation,
Condemned to a life of eternal damnation.
Two hearts became one
Now they follow different paths –
Divorce with remorse
He complained constantly of my cooking
Café reservations always booking
Said I drove him insane
But boy did he complain
When I left for someone better looking
The complaining has stopped, but the house is so quiet
So I pick up the phone, invite him for a riot
Haiku, limerick and couplet for the Divorce Club contest
Love's Greatest Costs Are Pangs Of Deepest Remorse
Life is not all love, sweet fun and joyous games
nor pure enjoyment seeing dawn's early rise.
Sometimes it may be our deeds revealed that shames
and cost us dearly, our heart's most precious prize.
Lost love is fast fleeing and elusive beast,
armed with sharp daggers and even deeper lies.
If returned, offers us a sumptuous feast,
of rarest delights and reclaimed cherry pies.
Ah, but to recover bright golden treasures,
one often endures hard blows and sharper cuts.
Sacrifices offered in painful measures,
one may win the prize but others think us nuts!
Love's greatest costs are pangs of deepest remorse.
Which avoiding, would mean no loving of course!
Robert J. Lindley, 2-08-2016
Form: Sonnet in 11 syllable verses(RJL 11).
Syllables Per Line:
11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11
Total # Syllables: 154
Total # Lines: 14 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 111
As life fleets us by,
We can only reminisce:
About lost chances.
I am blurred
lines circling
in spirals
into the
deadly depths
of darkness
taste of
my remorse
is flavored
with seasoned
cream cocktails
of regrets
I've been
caught on a
honed knife edge
as cobwebs
of fading
onyx Dreams
savor burnt
poisoned thirst
to let go
of every
smoke and ash
that blinded
my senses
from seeing
the dirt you've
fed my soul
in the name
of bloodlines
that never
existed
as all your
recipes
I've learnt through
the menu
of decayed
white lies served
in sweet disguise
staining faith
within a
heart shaped void
where demons
devour me
through midnight
now I'm my
own savior
concocting
an essence
to relish
and revive
without
iron schemes
to shackle me
Shall I do penance for my hasty words,
or poise myself on this quaint narrow quay
to smell the salty perfume of the sea,
on platinum ship sail so far away?
I quiver with trepidation and dread.
Forgive my horrid rashly spoken speech
before I venture this stormy voyage.
Assuage my repentant heart I beseech.
Alas I am in sad, sad quandary.
I pray you hear my true profound remorse,
accept my ardent amends and redress,
before I embark on this lonely course.
Sponsored by: Silent One
If this was the last
___________________
| If this was the last_goodbye |
But, what if this was the last time I cried,
Don't want to be hidden behind lying scrys.
The world forgotten on their prying device,
Humanity alone algorithmic thrice.
Heaven on you shoulder beckons you home,
Mirror-sucking marrow through soulless domes.
But, what if this is the last chance to thrive,
Society nullified blue tick uprise.
Locate my strength to become whole again,
Discharge into the torrent of play-pretend.
Am I willing to wonder the outdoors,
Bleak scepticism plaguing putrid drawbacks flaws
Pick up, put down, conscious cyber remorse,
No better a junky and their driving force.
But, what if this is the last time I lie,
Unsubscribe, double-click, shut device; goodbye.
Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these ‘it might have been’—John Greenleaf Whittier
without deep regret
apologetic parrot ~
squawks m
i n d racked a
n
g
u i s h
Significance
Is whether or not
It touches you personally
Remorse
Is expressed in being caught
Not the aforementioned action
Because the truly Sic actually
just don't care at all
I meant to kiss your scars
And instead I've torn them raw
I became someone else
Neither of us ever saw
You are so far away
The only thing I want now
Is for you to be ok
I hurt you
And made you afraid
How far from cuddling on my couch
We have strayed
I wish I could say
I'm sorry
I wish to take your pain away
But all I can do is sit and think
You feel so far away
i could have done more
AP: 3rd place 2020
Posted on September 15, 2020
Deep regrets lying dormant in the mind,
Stifle the thought processes lodging there
They mingle not with concepts refined,
Unless dislodged, they foster grim despair.
Remorse for past deeds you cannot repair
Will seriously tarnish your delicate soul
And from your good life take a bitter toll.
Written June 20, 2021
If I could take it all back
Every wrong ever wrought
Every regrettable thing
Every broken wing
I'd lay it all to rest
In an unmarked plot
Over which I would plant
Quiet thyme
And no-leaf clovers
Lilies of denial
And forget-me-nows
There would be no memorial
No elegy, no eulogy
No monody, no dirge
Not even a calaverita
Unless one is desperate
Enough to count this poem
This nobituary, if you will
No lamentation
No regrets
No go-away birds
No mourning doves
Nor egrets to bear the pall
Only leave the dead featherless
Laid down without down
To comfort them
And the egrets
Stand stilted and white
As nothing
Melancholy
As marble statues
In the silk gray dusk
Like lilies on a grave.
Guilt, remorse and sorrow
are the unrepressible emotions making me restless...
as they revoke their dreadful images,
leaving hot sweat on my wrinkled pillow,
and though I did hurt nobody but me:
it's a wound that will keep bleeding,
never finding that source of heeling;
and the longer I deny it, the more it haunts me!
God, give me Your revelation on how I should live,
to avoid the pitfalls that can make me stray;
God, I desire nothing more than mercy and joy!
I tread at the thought of the coldest grave;
locked in a coffin, buried underneath the heavy and damp soil...
with no air to breath, and no sun to feel and no love to give!
God, when my time draws near, all the bells will toil;
and will some of Your angels watch over my resting place?
If the main reason for being born is to build moral and character,
which deeds you demand of me that I perform in Your sight?
My ancestors sinned and I, too, must pay that price:
being imperfect and committing all kinds of vanities,
and still You consider me Your child and shine light on my path!
How ungrateful could I be with all the loving-kindness,
and undeserved generosity you shower me with...
when guilt, remorse and sorrow are all I have?
The older I get, the more frightened I am and all the foolishness,
which was evident in my erroneous lifestyle, loses its effect
and grip on me, revealing itself in that contagious and ugly aspect;
and who could return to the sinful ways and do more harm to himself?
I advice others to heed and redeem themselves before time prevails,
and offers no other chance at salvation! When I will be dead,
this voice will cease to speak...and I won't be found where the evil spirits loom;
and without guilt, remorse and sorrow I will be another corpse in that tenebrous tomb!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci