Regrets

Regrets? Of course I have regrets. Don't you?
Don't you remember all those things you said
You wished you hadn't? Wasn't your face red,
Remembering the things you didn't do?
I watched the thieves come waltzing through,
I talked with playwrights asking to be fed,
The altar boys were weeping, filled with dread
And loneliness, and you and I cried, too.

I don't regret calling my friend a louse
When he shared gossip with me. What I heard
Reminded me I shouldn't say a word
About the weaknesses we share. My house
Is filled with bright regret now. I may grouse,
But I'm dismayed, and I have been deterred.