Regrets

Let us speak, the poet says,

of desire and death:

Driven over half your life

by the one,

waiting the remainder

for the other.

Days when the music was new

and bright,

before your days of old

and dim,

remembered, not as they were,

just how you wished

they could have been

before

choices.

Regrets? Regrets. Regrets,

"But then again, too few to mention"

– Paul Anka, 'My Way'