I loathe the person I've become.
I hate the things that I have done,
To bring me where I am today,
And so it's with despair I say:
I wish I could be more like you,
I wish the past was still 'to do',
I wish I could fill what I lack,
But wishes can't bring old me back.
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Life's a mystery.
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Comments & Feedback (2)
@quackoquack thank you. I always try to write a poem that doesn't rhyme, and always my mind is thinking of rhymes!
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