Wilitng From Mistakes

I am wilting with regret----

There is guilt that withers me----

And blossoms from my chest----

Furrowed in the mulch of my soul, a weed

There is no button to push----

No Round-Up to spray----

His care I had crushed----

The ashes of my mistakes lie where he lays----

There will be woe, where Internet embraces once bloomed----

And from the garden of my weeds, a dandelion will sprout----

A flower not consumed by guilt, but watered by lessons learned----

I was wilting with regret.