Regrettable Actions

Like all the fortunes consumed in our misspent youth

Where the messenger cried shy of hope

The washing angrily drying out, written lines

To the exchange our familiarity

Crippled by the confines, this denial

To the song so slightly disenchanted

A bird in the corner of your eye

The one I set free

Corner of the room, I sleeping violet

Best we savour our moments like anonymous kissing Yankees

In the bankruptcy of truth

Cashing in on golden desire

Where I could be driven to drink

Driven to dance

Seldom now do my tricks

Labour in the folly of the masses

Sometimes you hit the nail on the head.

Not often enough to satisfy everything you nail.

Such is life.