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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1864070
Sometimes the last thing, really is the last thing.
The Big Regret

It's ten o'clock and you're not here.
Your dinner's cold, gone bad, I fear.
We lost control and fought with words.
And now my mind, regrets what had occurred.

Eleven o'clock, I walk the floor.
I listen for your keys at the door.
You've never been as late as this.
I want to say I'm sorry with a kiss.

Your phone is down, so I can't text.
I need to talk. I'm so perplexed.
The door bell rings. You've lost your keys?
Or have you decided to give me a tease.

Two men in blue, our fine police,
tell me the man I loved is now deceased.
A red light runner hit the car.
The accident, they say seemed so bizaar.

The words I said had changed my life.
Now I'm alone, a grieving wife.
I cannot let a day go by,
without deep regret, and a tear in my eye.
© Copyright 2012 Dorianne (jumacu at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1864070-The-Big-Regret