Regret
I am nostalgia
Listening to top hits
Of the eighties and nineties
Dressed in forgotten fashions
Of layered plaids, pastels, and neon.
I settle before my flickering screen
Hitting backspace, delete, escape
Purging reports of the counterfeit captain
Who fought invisible wars
That sunk his own ships.
I hear echoes
Of a once fantastic future
Permanently adrift
In a sea named
What Should Have Been.
Note: I wasn’t happy with the previous version of this poem, so I decided to update it. What do you think. You can compare this to my earlier draft here.
