It would be nice
to live life without regrets,
but I don’t know how to do that.
I’m always sorry for the mistakes I’ve made,
the multitudes of social blunders,
the intentional sludge of apathy.
When you grow your own lemons,
make lemonade, right?
All those little glitches in my life
make for good poem and story ingredients.
Sometimes the sweetest cakescall for a little lemon.