[Art and poem by Meg Sorick]
Year upon year, stacked like stones
A charnel house full of a lifetime’s bones
Storing regrets and sorrows like ancient tomes
After everything has been said and done
Wars waged and battles won
The same loneliness dwells in a cottage or a mansion
Rummaging through artifacts
A collection of regrets
Reminders of time wasted
And chances lost
Sift out the memories
And donate them to charity
Could anyone be happy
With these castoffs?
“Surely,” you say,
“It hasn’t been all bad…”
But I never see the bright side
Only the might have
And the what if?
And I’ll go to my grave
Wishing I’d done it all differently
(The header image is one of my own paintings; an abstract I’m calling Reflection)
Cleaning and purging always feels liberating to me. Nevertheless, clearing out things I’ve collected over the years always reminds me of different paths I could have taken, different choices I should have made. And I will never, ever be one of those people who says, “Yes, but all those choices make you the person you are today.” While that is true, it also assumes that I am happy with who I am and where I ended up. I would take a do-over every single time. No question.