Some Itches Don’t Get Scratched
The more I age, the more I look back. I see there were itches that didn’t get scratched.
As is the case with my two divorces. I hitched myself to the wrong horses.
Be that as it may. It’s a matter of fact. They are itches that didn’t get scratched.
Had I learned that lesson sooner, I might not have become a late bloomer.
Without rhyme or reason, and it’s not my last act. It’s an itch that didn’t get scratched.
I do not have a bucket list, but there are things I don’t want to miss.
It may not be the best of tacts. It’s likely an itch that won’t get scratched.
I wanted to get a PhD. It got too late. It was not meant to be.
I guess my brain took a lapse. That’s another itch that didn’t get scratched.
There is a name I carry in sorrow. It’s with me today and all of my tomorrows.
I have regrets. There’s no going back. I have itches that didn’t get scratched.
Itches need to be scratched. They can serve as guidance. They can lead to adventures. Unscratched itches can lead to regrets and a “rash” of other things.
