Frederick Kesner · Mar 3, 2011
regret

.



i hate it that i missed
having to speak to you before
the day had ended

i hate it that i missed
spoken softly in my ear
our surging voices blended

i hate that i missed
the passing of the day
and a sunset blazing red

i hate that i missed
my chance to wipe up
the stain where it bled




.
© Frederick Kesner. All Rights Reserved.

 
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