Regret & Hope

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My relationship with poetry is spontaneous, infrequent, sudden. Thoughts and feelings swell inside at unexpected times, and I find myself quickly scribbling lines (or sometimes pages) of poetry in the back of books or nearby scrap paper. Today I came across this scribble (I think it to be 3-5 months old, probably written late at night) on the back pages of Leap Over A Wall.

At night

that’s when I feel

the regrets of the day

and…

hope for tomorrow

a better me

Good night

See you tomorrow

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