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.