One of the hard truths about getting older is that you often find yourself fighting a (usually losing) battle against the gradually-accumulating Haz-Mat waste dump of regrets that will gladly and eagerly eat you alive, if given even half the chance. It’s also pretty much a truism that the harder regrets are to let go, the more toxic and dangerous they are to keep. Sometimes, there will just never be any hope of resolution, and (at best), admonitions such as: “Let it Go” tend to come across as a slap in the face. At worst, they carry echoes of every brutal life lesson of the grammar school playground that all-too-often employed an incoming fist as its delivery methodology.
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 733 B
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