So regrets are. . .

nothing but blaming one’s self,

nothing but the art of not letting go,

nothing but seeds from the past.

That care not,

does not,

and will not let you go.

Until all Fears,

Tears, Doubt

Blames and Shames

that does love you the most.

Do you want to,

Do you need to,

Do you feed her,

Would you love as the same as before?


Β© oliver a. melendez.

Β© all artworks and poetry by ohms / @rstydhude

@Vb 118. b2.27/ Dhudles


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