Day 7: Write an ode to one regret.
It sits in the pit of her stomach
like a rotting piece of fruit or flesh
growing every day, like the fire
from a match’s flick.
She sinks further into regret’s spidery web
as the bond between her and there just doesn’t mesh
and the situation grows more dire
yet she waits for the feeling to ebb.
But it simply will not,
she realizes, as she makes that trek
far underneath the concrete
doing the right thing, or so she thought.
Never again, never again, she vows
to let slip away something on deck
without, at the very least, a meet
for hope it’ll be a life that wows.