Regret Poems - Poems about Regret

The end of days is a term Dark enough To make men squirm And real enough In a way To make one consider His final day… Without regrets…who’s to say And doing so I must look back On what I wrought And what I wrecked What I built And what I broke What I gave And what I took Then the book that tallies sums Finds me wanting And then some For...

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My name's ANGIE, are you listening? I grew up listening to that group called Rolling Stones I was told you're wasting your time by dreaming They never knew how harsh they were with those tones. Words they thought were normal for dreamers I didn't see why not, nothing could stop that Until one I was caught with...

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from winning a fortune to receiving a text my emotions can’t predict what’s next. a breakup, a letter and one more message from a mother why are we punished now? to break person you need to be a person and i haven’t managed to be one an empty shell the most colourful shell you’ve ever seen a dream letters i cut out...

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How perversely exciting it used to be, in the months after you made your decision to abandon this hopeless situation meaning [rueful laughter] the UK, not so much the shattered bones of you and me I was still hanging on, a faithful puppy getting up early and heading out to Heathrow to provide the welcome committee and then I went straight to work?...

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Eyes abused once innocent sparkle less than a yellow flame, window swept of a beautiful scent, Maps dusty appear and have bleed. Some keys never fit a door's lock and we are on purgatory's dock and forever all over flicking again, books never read have our name. ...

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Eyes glassy to the medication messy are the red on wrists I hate those grey heavy doors They carry only misery lore of the souls lost to hospitals And the final breathes A child make wishes. A youth afraid ceases of breathing would suddenly stop one day, with my autism child therapist now I hope it occurs every-day. Slowly a letter in an envelope With words reduced...

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I said I knew him— like the sea knows the moon, drawn, pulled, dancing tides to his rhythm. I traced constellations in the freckles on his back, wrote sonnets on the way he stirred his coffee, knew his heartbeat like a song I was born with. I could name the sound his silence made, the way his right eye twitched when he...

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In this lonesome world that was robbed of light, you alone came and lit it up, you are my salvation, my hope and my life. I have regretted letting you go, I desire to have you at my arms length for the rest of my life, but I surmise, you never would want to be with...

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What if forever was never meant to be? Just a story we told ourselves to sleep at night, A myth we wrapped around broken promises So they wouldn’t hurt as much in the morning. I loved you like a secret — One I couldn't tell myself out loud. You were my friend, But I whispered prayers hoping you’d look at me With the...

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haunt me as i haunted your life, who was it that failed, did you fail as a father, or did i fail as a son. the tears i shed on that morning in January, do they compare to the tears you drank. leaving nothing behind only your blood. is it to late for me to apologise? consuming your death to fill the gaps...

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Oops I fell for it I spoke too soon I said too much I'm hooked I took the bait Now my life takes a 180° and there's no turning back AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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glimpse at time fleeting and what could have been ~ a squandered youth AP: 2nd place 2025...

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you let love slip through your fingers where you once held the key now you're haunted with regret and have nowhere else to flee AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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Inspired by Mati, a Stubborn, Beautiful, Black Angora When Mom sat me on the ground, oh, meow, what fun I found. Loved the out, but now I need in more, so I call and rub our door. Where's our stuff they carried out, I still smell familiars about? They just don't hear me yet, I'm sure there's no reason...

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These days I often find myself lying on my pristine rock, hard bed thinking about why the world would ever care about someone like me. I wonder how my thoughts ever drifted this far. Maybe social media? Or my own self-conceit, brimming with forbidden passions even van Gogh or Picasso couldn't imagine. Yet, I only say that because I can't...

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