Regret

She was beautiful woman. Every man's dream.
I wanted her and she wanted me. We talked we
laughed, we lay together. She gave me herself with
love, but to one that word was a lie.

I took my pleasure, gave it back without restraint
but she knew and cursed me for deceiving her.
I knew the truth of it. I could not love her and I
wept for her hurt.

The truth to tell the tears should have been for me.
Fleetingly I was hers but could not sustain the lust
which was all I had to offer, even to one such as she.

Maybe one day I will learn to love and be loved, but
till then it would seem, I will repeat the hurt and regret
in an endless cycle of self destruction.