Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
I feel sad about the memories I don't have
of all the places I haven't been to.
Sad about all the lives I could have lived
but didn't for barely having the one I got.
Sad for being bound to here and now
and in love with all that lay beyond.

I declined my life and failed the world
over a mad thirst for the impossible.
And to a guilt free conscience I put ahead
my demented love for the implausible.
Written by
Carl Butler
813
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems