Some of My Regret

Sandra Saxon Burnsed

My mind woke me up from a fevered dream of a podcast. Sitting with old friends having conversations unheard of today. Pulling me away from the central thought of freedom. To the unsure times of my yesterday’s. So as I lay awake, I pen my adventure. Storing up lessons to unpack for another day. For the thoughts of an old man are about rest and creativity.

Hubris can lead a man to ruin and I should know. I’ve walked that path a many a day. Which is perfectly fine when you are walking alone. But when your dragging a family along, it leads to more than your own unfortunate consequences. I walk a fine line between guilt and self-pleasure, thinking about the hubris I carried. Now broken, but quietly rebuilding. I still find time to dream of some of my regret.

But life, just as dreams, often fades into the shadows. Leaving behind mistic reflections that must be swept away. So as I lay in bed clearing away the cobwebs, I’m reminded of the regret. Of a thousand broken promises that replay in my head. But I try and comfort my young self by pouring my soul out like a river. Till my tired old heart is able to rest again.