WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

Sad and lonely, melancholy, in a moment of despair
Gazing back on years of folly – memories hard to bear.
Like a vision, recollection brings me back some vanished scene
God, it is a sad reflection just to think what might have been.
Once life’s path was strewn with flowers, of dark care I little knew
Toil was but like April showers, or the pleasant evening dew.
Summer suns soon had flitted, then came Autumn’s golden sheen
Should a man be blamed or pitied when he thinks what might have been.?
Dreaming of the past brings pleasure, oft I dream of one I loved
One whose memory I still treasure, long since gone to lands above.
One whose love was like no other that I’ve ever known or seen
Oh, hadst thou but lived my Mother, who could tell what might have been.
Paths I’ve trod and left behind me, pleasant scenes they led among
Present troubles now remind me of the turnings I took wrong.
Still ‘tis useless to be sorry, ripened wheat can ne’er turn green
‘Tis, alas, too late to worry, none can alter what has been.