Julie A Smith
Mud On My Shoe (A Poem About Regret)
I walk alone.
Sometimes the day is sunny.
Sometimes the day is cloudy.
Thunderstorms loom and threaten.
But, alas, there is no umbrella
to shield me
and to shield
the turbulent storm in my heart.
The dismal weather matches my fluctuating mood
of melancholy and regret.
The puddle looms but I don't see it.
Am I weary rose-colored glasses?
Sometimes a girl can only see a puddle
when she is already in it.
Such is life. Such is love. Such is heartache.
Mud clings to my shoe.
Bitter and lacking any mirth.
The epitome of my regret.
I try to scrub it off.
Still some mud lingers
and it seems
nothing I can do will change that.
Mud intertwines with my regret.
Hindsight is always 20/20,
so they say.
I sadly agree.
You live and you learn.
Mistakes will be made.
It is inevitable.
growth often involves pain,
Some mistakes are cleansed by the cool touch
of healing waters
while others seem to fester like open sores
and linger on
Thus, like the mud on my shoe,
these mistakes are not cleansed,
nor are they forgiven.
I walk on alone.
Hoping for a sunny day
or a moon
and a starry night.
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