Regret: A poem 

I’m the chef with chopped chilli 

And I bring it on willy nilly 

Sweaty ears in the throes of autumn 

Let my tongue burn, let it burn 

I have said words that seem absurd 

with passion playing the incorrigible stud 

If I flinch in agony and regret 

from having my soul with rage beset 

If I have made emotion a moment sally 

Let me take pains to climb out of the valley 

Self-degradation, though no virtue, is a price 

to save oneself from repeat of vice 

I have no answer for the moment 

But remorse’s hangover is torment 

I will dig up my soul blame after blame 

And have my humility replace my shame