Mistakes are the cuts nobody sees,

deep or shallow, they bleed,

draining you, taking your mind away

from the present, keeping you

from breathing the air available;

they’re like a veil, covering you eyes,

a filtered view, a lens discoloured;

the world seems less because

your problems are more.


But mistakes could just be

uninformed decisions, good intentions

led astray by unknowing; choices made

under circumstances enthralling, unavoidable;

so why lament? why beat yourself up

for choosing a path knowing

all that you could have known?


Hindsight and retrospect can be foul

harbingers of regret, illusions

so pointless and destructive; or

they can evince a wisdom previously hidden,

the choice lies in the self, in wait, if

you have eyes to see it.

Life will go on, everything will be fine,

experience is invaluable, the sun

will rise when the night ends, learn

from the cuts of mistakes.


Such wounds cannot heal without

the advent of self-reflection.