In the black no man's account belongs.
Every record's red with wrongs.
Regret's the soul's sole cure for sin,
So take it twice, for everything.
Regret is head-turned-back hindsight–
Emotional, thus no more right
Than backing into a telephone pole,
and haste like that will bruise the
soul.
Time heals, but teaches lessons, too.
Regret can be thus used, as a tool,
A map to life's best neighborhoods.
Moderation's almost always good.
It shouldn't hinder, block your eyes.
Just keep it near you as a guide.
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