The Mistakes/a poem
On the edge of the world, I’m looking down; slowly I fall on unforgiving ground.
With a broken heart, and shattered dreams, all I hear are my own tortured screams.
Wasted years that I cannot replace, time gone by that I’ve chosen to waste.
What did I do with the life God gave? As I stare through tears at my own deep grave.
All the should have been’s, and could have been’s, haven’t changed anything, all thy do is cause hurt and pain.
I could have had joy, had I only tried, but I chose self pity and carried it inside.
And now here I stand old and gray, a vision of youth withered away.
We all must choose the path we take, and in the end we own the mistakes.