Regret

You say: the world, it doth bewilder me,
I am now new and these are complex things,
E’en bloodied scrape ‘pon this but youthful knee,
Commixed in pain; with raw confusion brings,

I say: those moraled stories writ by thee,
What scrawled in ebb tide sand with driftwood wand, 
Were simply passing whims ‘fore life’s great sea,
Returned to He, not ye, who was unfond,

You see not me, nor do you seem to care,
As I for you in my lamenting ways,
To enterprising deed, worthwhile affair, 
Just trav’ler caught in unrelenting haze,

Oh, me!  I call to rooms devoid of thee,
Hear mine hallowed call: let thine eyes see!

​- Scott Alexander McKenzie