We live with our mistakes,
our regrets,
and it get daunting sometimes.
It haunts me sometimes
that a guy that can fix almost anything,
has a hard time fixing broken folks.
Sometimes I’ll make some jokes to hide
the pain that is draining my resolve
as I try to salve the next kerfuffle.
But, I muff it more times than not,
I’ve got these fickle fingers sometimes
and my rhymes are all that saves me.
Sometimes. I try not to show my weakness,
the bleakness of which drives me to think.
I do all I can and pray that is enough.
It has been rough, but we deal with it.
Stealing from it every moment of joy,
trimming the sails in these prevailing winds.
But my greatest of fears is one day not being able
to wipe the harsh trails of her gentle tears.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

“Regret” Poem

Offered at dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link Night #195


I thought of her the other day,
and in my way
I miss her so.
Why did she go?

Could it have been her heart grew tired?
Not inspired?
She’d had enough
and she was off.

Now,  her departure leaves me muddled,
on the shuttle.
We departed
broken hearted.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

“Regret” poem


I have too much “stuff”,
it has to go
to the dump…
to the Goodwill…
to the consignment…

Who am I kidding?

I’ve saved for too many
“rainy days”,
“could come in handy somedays”,
“you never know when you’ll need…”

I don’t need it.

And I bought an umbrella.
Actually I bought two.
And a raincoat…

Obsolescence has been saved
and could lead to my grave
if I’m not careful. Pulling out
my hair by the handful.

I know, one man’s junk
can be another man’s junk
if I play my cards right!
I battle the inclination to replace my “stuff”
with more “stuff”; sadly, my junk drawer
is in need of another drawer. It ends up
on the floor or some other flat surfaced “shelf”.

And shelves are everywhere if you can find them.
My mind says “purge, Purge, PURGE!”
But, I fight the urge.

And I have too much “stuff”!

That is my regret!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

“Regret” Poem


Unfeeling, leaving hearts reeling,
stealing emotion on the notion
that you can’t miss what you never had.
Bad, bad, AWFUL bad, and it’s sad
that a love lost and a woman scorned
become the choice of the lesser
of the two evils proposed. You
are left exposed to her icy stare.
You wouldn’t dare question your fate.
You’d hate to find her frigid digits
around your nape; grasping, gasping
for air and a wooden stake. You fail
to see any humor or any laughing matter,
for that matter. An “Ice Queen” would be
a dream girl compared to her barren tundra.
But, you’re under her spell and your heart is hers,
at least until she’s done walking all over it.
Go to hell you witch! OK, I’ll show you the way.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 10 – Un-love Poem