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The Regretable Pattern
I drew a pattern on the floor
Stood up to walk the lines
Faced the end and found the more
I walked there were more signs
I read the detours, U-turns, yields
Tried to leave the path I drew
Admired from afar the oceans, woods and fields
I wish I'd drawn in but never knew
I neared my destination quicker than I'd hoped
Looked upon the soil cold and dark in which I'd lay
Regretted using pen, and trying in vain around I groped
For something to erase the pre-laid plans for my final day
poem
by
Argentine Tango
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