Regret

The action is innocent, my hands are clean.
But the consequence, not unforseen,
Twists like a wretch.

Our choices clearly define us.
But what defines our choices?
My words form the keen needle..
But the thread I use must be new.

The dawn chorus greets my insomnia,
Agony begets agony.

Pale ice forms upon my mirror,
The wheel continues to carry the water.
Cowardice will not avail me.
But altruism will.

Reviews

[Barbara Kasey Smith]

Wow, this is great poetry - many images occurred causing imaginations to explode!