Regrets, we will all have a few…

Grappling with the news of the death of an old friend. A long life, well lived with much love. Rest in peace, and may those left behind hold some of you for ever.



When death comes, it first brings regret

For all those things said or not said

For poor omissions and commissions

For generational gaps it was never

Possible to bridge


But let time be your kindness

Then pain might become less a pointing finger

And become instead that precious ache inside

Letting you know you were loved

And that you loved too in return

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