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Concealed Regrets

I’m sorry for the wrongs I didn’t do

words only thought, imagined crimes

like those a child when punished hungers to commit


I’m sorry for the barbs I didn’t mean

concealed in silence as my inner ear hears you

muttering in quiet your own regrets


Perhaps in heat of some unguarded flash

we’ll gaze into each other’s eyes

and wish we hadn’t met


Imagination has a power defying truth

as we remember how deluded we once were

listening to slogans from each other’s lips


Yearnings, echoes, things we held at bay

yet played upon our minds reminding us of

pop songs, lovers’ arias, operas that didn’t yet exist


Forgive me, I’ve become undone with fictions

writing versions of untruths upon our walls

and hoping somehow you would understand


That under all imagining, the things that really count

are hidden by the words we didn’t mouth

as desperate I turn away, try not to show


the pleading in my eyes


Dear heart, tell me now, is it too late

to gather all the words we didn’t say

and throw them in the gutter, or make a bonfire of them


turning this night to day?

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© Johnmichael Simon



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