I Have No Regrets

The sad days
of oh so
grueling
misery,
and the
cold dark
winepress
of
condemnation,
does not
pour
regret on
me,
the piercing
sword
of
judgement
and words
hurled
like
stones,
oh just
like being
stoned
makes
me
so so
strong,
tough
as
hickory,
and
a deep
gold trunk
of pearls
and
diamonds
from the
plunder
of all
my
victories,
and pain
is part
of me
and who
I am,
and if
I could
redo
the
melancholy
scenes
and
nightmares
of this
this life,
I would
walk away
and decline
the chance,
whistling
over the
good
things