A Glance Over the Shoudler

The man observes his reflection

From beneath pressed-together brows.

Each wrinkle splayed across his aging face

Tells a story of boyish regret.

Each regret has been made unforgettable.

He traces the lines of his face, reading his own story

As it was written from boy to man.

He regrets losing his virginity to her

Simply because he gave up on ever being with you again.

He regrets losing you

Simply because he couldn't take his eyes off another.

He regrets living without loving himself

Simply because he could never be the man you needed.

He regrets not being able to say what he needed to say

When it really mattered.

There isn't any time left, now,

To repair what has been undone.

No time left, now,

For anything but regrets.