Poems Of Regret by...
An Ode To Central Library
Oh, beloved Central Library
How I do mourn for thee
Sacred place of books an' stuff
Safe space for my poetry
How my heart doth weep an' wail
And how my soul doth yearn
For builders to have finished
So us folk can return
To the vibrant arty hub
Of eclectic entertainment
Which feeds the needs of all around
Through its restorative engagement
But 'till such time I'll bear no grudge
Nor harbour a regret
I'll patiently just wait right here
Camped out upon its steps.
Poems Of Regret
She pieced her heart back together
with shells from Alnmouth beach.
Each one prised from the sand
with bare fingers and a backward glance
at the children playing near.
She must have looked just like
those kids, who, completely absorbed
in their self-imposed task,
continued to build their palaces
and dig their moats
without a thought for the tide.
Until it crept up behind them,
soft and slightly foaming, submerging
the whole bay beneath a blanket of tears.
At thirty something, she should
have known better.
Let me be clear:
time does not heal.
It merely smoothes a salve
of passing days
into the wreckage
of your soul
to fool you into thinking
that everything will be all right.
And it is, until,
standing outside the supermarket
searching for the shopping list
you compiled in the small hours
of a rainy Tuesday night,
A sly, subterranean shift
at the very core of you,
pulling apart your
unbranded happiness and
exposing your discounted heart
for what it truly is:
seeped in sadness;
numbed from shock;
its heavy heavings
like shop doors
on their continuous lateral slide:
open - shut - open - shut.
Lynn Gerrard is
a St Helens writer,
poet and spoken
Alexandra O'Toole is a Lancashire
based Fiction writer, poet and
A Poem Of Regret by...
Brian Bordello is
with St Helens band
Fornication Is Medication For The Soul
Fornication is medication for the soul
My tears are sweet my heart so hollow
My mother was a psychedelic priestess of old
My father loved her put her on a pedestal of gold
Fornication is my medication for the soul
Oversexed and undernourished in every way
My body badly beaten by the summer breeze
today, walking hand in hand with the man to who I gave my heart away, I gave so cheaply away
Fornication is my medication for the soul and my memories turn so sweetly to another a once handsome former lover the breeze whispers his name but it is over, regretfully sadly tragically over.
The Definition of Regret by ForgottenBee
R eflecting on
G rieving, giving
R eason for wanting to
T ime past decisions
It’s that slipping through your fingers,
when you know you should have caught.
Never knowing when to close your mouth,
instead of slinging words with lack of thought.
Living everything in excess,
never knowing when to stop.
Web surfing without a reason,
only just the need to shop.
Agreeing to help others,
when you’re in the greater need.
Trusting when you know you shouldn’t,
caging a heart when it should be freed.
Waking up the morning after,
wondering how you ended up there.
Saying yes and then resenting,
feeling life is so unfair.
The kiss that nearly changed your path,
a rush of passion from the soul.
Not trusting your intuition
or setting challenges and future goals.
The dream job you’ve always wanted,
doubts arise you don’t apply.
Travelling the world is an adventure,
but you’re too afraid to fly.
Is it worth carrying the burden,
the negativity from day to day?
When it no longer brings future changes,
or will ever go away.
Follow your dreams and trust your instincts,
take risks and start to grow.
Be yourself and practise kindness,
forgive and let the hurting go.
Be sure in your decisions,
and live life with positive verve.
Never look back with woe and sadness,
just embrace the lessons learnt.
I was born in Greenwich and raised in Kent the youngest of 3 children to tough Northern parents. I didn’t really enjoy living in Kent, I never felt the energy was right for me, so I was always searching for a place to plant my roots.
On moving to Somerset in 2006, I instantly felt the positive creative pull and can honestly say it’s the first time I have felt like I’m home. From a young age I always kept a diary I was regularly writing poetry to help balance the demands and hurdles of growing up in a loud family and never finding a voice, whilst dealing with hormones and emotions.
Often my poetry and diary entries evolved into short stories based on life experiences.
A Poem Of Regret
I Could Say That I Regret
I could say that I regret not saving money for a rainy day,
Getting those designer shoes and hiding the price tag away.
I could say that I regret that crash diet that made me faint,
Having to drink those detox shakes that tasted a lot like paint.
I could say that I regret the teenage romances and crippling heart breaks,
I should have known that none of those guys would have what it takes.
I could say that I regret that time that I bleached my hair,
But I think I was pretty brave for having the courage to dare.
I could say that I regret wearing that tiny revealing dress,
But I have seen people out and about wearing even less.
I could say that I regret those crazy parties and late nights,
But at the time I loved dancing under the nightclub lights.
I could say that I regret being a rebel and messing about at school,
But my teenage years, I must admit were actually pretty cool.
I could say that I regret taking that job that I disliked so much,
But it made me go after my dreams and grab them with a tighter clutch.
I could say I regret taking chances and wished that I had not,
But those things have all led me to exactly where I have got,
I could say that I regret doing a million things if you really want me to,
But if I am honest the only regrets I have are for all of the things I did not do!
© Helen Hill 2017
Helen Hill is a 33 year old writer from St Helens.
She is the founder and editor of The Socialite UK, a national online lifestyle magazine and she is also a writer and political commentator at
The Bastion online newspaper.
A Labour Party activist and Trade Union campaigner, Helen is passionate about social mobility, equality and diversity.
I shed a sea of tears today, it came as no release
But brought to mind the bad times, I'd buried to find peace
Every day I was too weak to make the hardest choice
Avoided confrontation, cowered, suppressed my inner voice
Now I'm just left craving what is clearly out of reach
Feel beaten, bruised and cast aside as pebbles on a beach
No needle ever scarred this way and broken bones may heal
But all the healing in the world won't change the way I feel
It's hard to hide from consequence of actions you regret
The ones that truly never leave, the ones you can't forget
How things might have worked out if I'd walked another road
Then maybe in these darkest days, I'd not feel so alone
Nothing burns so badly as emotion, hurt and loss
Hidden in a private Hell, your burden and your cross
All the times I told myself "I'm okay, I'll be fine"
Now I know I lied, feels like I truly died inside
Seemingly I'm shackled by a shell I can't control
Emotionally crippled, cold and darkness fills my soul
Original Dark Poetry
Copyright © Craig Detheridge
2015 - 2017
A Poem Of Regret by...
A Poem Of Regret by...
Craig Detheredge is a tortured frustrated, frustrated poet with an interest in anything macabre, supernatural or horror related.
His work can be viewed on his website originalpoetry.com
A Poem Of Regret by...
ODE TO MY UGLY BITS
My body is middle-aged, obese and flawed,
No longer the figure my husband adored,
But yet it has beauty and is full of life,
Despite all my heartache, confusion and strife.
My wrinkles remind me of laughter and joy,
My sagging breasts fed both my girl and my boy.
My flabby arms still can give wonderful hugs
And my belly, though big, I am learning to love.
Not forgetting my eyes, clear blue, soulful and sparkly
And my hair, yes, it’s greying, but hasn’t changed markedly.
My even teeth smile despite yellowing faintly,
While my legs remain shapely and my feet small and dainty.
My stretch marks bear witness to miraculous pregnancy
And my lardy backside cushions me when I’m weary.
I may not be firm, lithe or make men feel heady,
But, my wonderful body, you are strong, true and steady.
MY FATHER'S CARDIGAN
This is all I have of him
The sum total of a life
I never shared with him.
He never held me in his arms
He never reached out to me
He never waved me a cheery
Nor a weary
We were distanced
Through the cold circumstance
And through silly situations
Spawned from mutual stubbornness
And the nonsense of pride
Many, many lonely moons ago
But my heart never abandoned him
My thoughts kept him close
If only in my head
And my regret is
That I never told him this
That I never placed my arm
Around his shoulder
In his final cardigan wearing days
And said to him the words
That had orbited my heart
All of my life
"I love you, Dad"