Much time is spent on regret
To relive what one would rather not relive
To repay an obsolete debt you may not owe
with a vanished currency
To remember what would be easier forgotten
To analyze days that are long closed
To retrieve what is lost from time carried away from the wind
Regret isn’t penitence.
It is neither tragic nor heroic
It is neither good nor bad
It is giving undue value to something
That is only
A theft from today.