You fail to fathom now
that all can make mistakes.
Stop brooding on what’s gone;
There will be more retakes.
Between right and wrong torn,
your mind does facts distort;
A small mistake that’s made
seems like a deadly rot.
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It’s fine if you bad played
and made amends right then;
No need to have pretexts
to save yourself from men.
If mind yours gets perplexed,
relax, inhaling deep;
Time you got dogged well
to worry not ere sleep.
Your past if you dwell on,
arousing grave slips done;
They will shine again, my dear
and spoil your present fun.
DO READ | The Procrastinator
Categories: Rhythmic and Metric