The plaintive cry falls wasted,
if I had only known.
It echoes empty in the mind
of missteps now long gone.
Words misspoke that wounded deep
brought tears to one I love so
or angered one a near ally
and changed him into foe.
Actions, too, with little thought
and yet they turned out well.
Sometimes we risk or time escapes
to do the perfect thing.
Poor choices, actions have occurred
and no doubt will again,
mistakes are made, but move we must
learn from each, then change.
What I know now, my truth today
will on the morrow grow
from errors that I’ve yet to make,
and add to what I know.