there in the twilight mist
we stand
our eyes in clouds
of regret
we grope forward
seeking rest
only to find the mist
too thick
for these aging
weary eyes
and longing
so heavy
on our hearts
regret
that lump in the throat
there were Christmases
birthdays
a gift here
a gift there
words exchanged
and some unspoken
pictures in an album
letters never sent
a shot of whiskey
here here
now
that lump
in the throat
called regret
like a wound
regret
like a wound
that never heals
throbbing
in the night
with a nod to Luis Lorente
what do they want
these dead
huddled along the walls
whispering in corners
eyes that plead
for some kind of resolution
leaving the regret
the remorse
heavy in the air
the waste of my heart
so many years
of regret
the waste
of my heart
when I look
at you
words never said
buried here
in old regrets
the words
oh the words
never said
how little we know
how little we know
of people
until
it is too late
to let them know
we learned
