Regret
Nov 4th, 2009 | By Joseph Meckes | Category: Poetry | 421 viewsHe sat on a bench in the park that day
I couldn’t help notice, as I passed his way.
Sitting and staring down at his shoes
mumbling the words “I am you”.
A tattered bag he held by his side
his clothes all worn, his shoes untied.
His hat couldn’t cover, all of his hair
he looked quite the bum just sitting there.
He beckoned me over to look in his eyes
the soul of this man I might recognize.
He carried the burden of his willful life
his sorrow besieged me in all of its strife.
I softly asked him “What can I do?”
He said “Nothing, Friend, I am you.”
He opened his bag and showed me so dear
the things that burdened his life with a tear.
In his bag broken promises, too many to count
and lies to loved ones, an endless amount.
Greed and selfishness were also hid there
infidelity cluttered his bag of despair.
Bigotry and hate were skewed in the swag
I saw my transgressions there in that bag.
Seeing the lot made my worthlessness known
and there I was, on the bench all alone.
The old man was gone, the bag was all mine
and all those sins were by my own design.
My day of redemption, I’ll never forget
cause I carry the burden. . . my bag of regret.
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About Joe: I've always loved poetry, not all poetry, but the stuff that makes you laugh or cry. I've been writing poetry for family and friends since college but have resisted pushing my poetic style to a public medium until now. I guess I'm a senior citizen since AARP has solicited my membership which I just haven't wanted to accept yet. I am busy with my career as a manufacturing software consultant, spending time with my wife of 34+ years, involved with our two daughter's lives, and my grandsons. Oh those grandsons! I've been blessed in many ways but most of all with health and family. I'm a world traveler and have been dumb struck many times by the beauty of God's world and the complexities of his creation. I hope you enjoy my poetry. Please feel free to contact me; I enjoy the interaction with other creative writers. |
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