Regret Reprise

My sister wrote a sequel to my previous poem Regret -

"My dear, oh dear, the years slipped by,

Your hair is grey, your knees ache and sigh.

You have been happy, have you not, friend?

You had a wife and a child and wealth to spend.

The world was your oyster, the sky your limit,

The only trouble (of course!) was a little bee in your bonnet -

The image of a girl, though now she would be old,

The mascara on her lashes that made her look bold.

And now as your life fades,

In and out of your memory she wades.

You shake your head and chide your heart,

For being such a foolish work of art.

But my dear, oh dear, you are unaware,

To think of you, she does also dare -

Yes, when she is alone, and when she is not,

You forever warm her thoughts:

From the way you took out the thorns that could prick her,

Out of the roses that you'd give her whenever you'd bicker.

To the way you'd touch her cheek with a finger,

And just a second too long, let it linger -

She remembers it all though she acted cold,

It was just an act - a truth untold.

And so today: a lady approaches the front of your door,

Her hair is short and her dress is long,

But her boots are still scuffed and that makes your sure.

The lovely lady, she says lovely things,

The things she has been hiding all along,

You understand now why you were wrong -

To think that you didn't haunt her dreams,

(Indeed, everything is not what it seems.)

My dear, oh dear, how the years have passed,

You are at peace when you breathe your last."

Regret.

My dear, oh dear, you cannot see,

How she plays with you so obviously.

How she bats her lashes so thick, you come to her running,

How she chuckles so softly, you don’t know how cunning

She really can be, to her, it’s all a show

She left the battlefield years ago

Her heart too delicate to bear it again and again-

Love stabbed her in the back when.

My dear, oh dear, you cannot understand,

When she lets you hold her hand,

She’s trembling from within, behind her façade so strongly built,

When you give her flowers, from her coldness they do wilt.

When you ask her how she is, she will shrug and not reply,

She won’t ever trust you, she’ll feel betrayed and shy.

Her carefully applied mascara will not further spread,

No more tears over love will she ever shed.

My dear, oh dear, but you cannot hear,

Her soft tears at night, when she wants you near

She’s too ashamed to admit it, so she stretches her smile wide,

Her teeth hurt, and her cheeks ache; but she mustn’t lose her pride.

So she walks confidently, though shaking inside,

“She’s a player”, they whisper and hide

From her rude glares thrown their way,

With her long hair, short dress, scuffed boots, she know what they’ll all say.

My dear, oh dear, you did not pay heed

She warned you to never do the deed

She told you to stay away,

Why oh why did you not listen to her say

That her world was not for you,

Now you must return heartbroken, and empty handed too,

For she is too broken, do not try to put her together again,

Too many have tried and failed to do it when.

My dear, oh dear, you did not know,

She loved you too, she was just too afraid to show.