RegretA Poem by John Alexander McFadyenRegret I cannot proclaim the day as mine for indeed it is not! I no more control the roll of life's die than I do the English climate. The dead leaves that fall from my tears are carried on a crisp, biting Northeast wind that paints it's frost upon my weary eyelids, sealing them tight shut. Squeezing out the light of my ended summer, I retreat into the darkest corner of my soul to hibernate among the soothing songs of my heart, hoping that soon the thaw will come to warm my aged, cracked bones and break the pack ice that holds me fast.
27/10/13 © 2014 John Alexander McFadyenAuthor's NoteReviews
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Added on October 30, 2013Last Updated on July 27, 2014 AuthorJohn Alexander McFadyenBrixworth, England, United KingdomAboutWell, have a long and complicated story and started it as an autobiography on Bebo but got writer's block/memory fogging. People liked it though and kept asking for the next chapter! fools.. more..Writing
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