And were I sorry for the things

I did not do but know I should

then every day would fill with tears

but resolute I stand my ground.


And blind to love and life and joy

and all the things I gave away

and most of all the hope I lost

when frailty I did not protect.


So blind I stumble, feet red raw,

and filled with rage and bile and scorn

for those who have what I so crave

yet threw away and cant regain.