A poem on the things we did right and still got wrong
Some poems arrive after you’ve made peace with something. This one arrived before I had. I wrote it in one sitting, mostly as a list of questions I couldn’t answer, and I’m sharing it as it came.
“I regret giving so much of myself away that the ones closest to me received the least of my time.”
Regrets
Is it good to live with regrets?
Or is it better to never take a chance,
never make a mistake,
never wish for anything, and so never regret?
I can’t speak for others, but I have regrets.
A few are good ones.
The rest leave me with questions:
Why did I do that?
Why did I allow it to happen?
Why did I let it cross my mind?
Why did I ever wish for it?
I regret not being present while being present.
I regret not taking a chance while taking a chance.
I regret not choosing while choosing for myself.
I regret believing in belief while believing.
I regret guarding the truth while sharing it.
I regret being myself while not being myself.
I regret giving so much of myself away
that the ones closest to me received the least of my time.
And still, I would rather carry these regrets
than a life I never risked.
A few words after the poem
For most of my life, I have risked everything for love, for friendship, for the people I believed in. I don’t regret the risk. I regret where the hours went. Somewhere between giving and giving more, the people closest to me received the least of my time, and that is the one thing no chance, no apology, and no good intention can hand back.
That’s why the poem ends the way it does. I still choose the life I risked over the one I protected. But I’ve started to ask who gets the best of my time, and whether the people who love me are waiting at the end of the line.
If you’ve ever given so much away that you had little left for home, you’re not alone. I’d love to hear what this poem stirred in you.
— Lamiya Siraj
“Your thoughts matter – Share them below!”