When you are lying
on your death bed
reminiscing on the life
you have led,
will you have regrets
over what you had
tried to forget,
like the trouble you laid
at the doors
of the ones
who knew the score.
They opened up
their arms
to embrace you
and all your charms.
They never said
you were no good
but they had understood
you were different
but kind,
a sufferer of
an overactive mind.
The 50 year old poet 