#17: No regrets?

What does it mean,
To live life with no regrets?

Is it, to do all the things you think of doing, or think you want to do,
Making someone who doesn't have your spirit
(but is just as human and normal),
Feel spiritless, and think the idea radical?

Is it, to show the others, that you have done
All you could; you have made mistakes
You're proud of... So what if someone else
Has been hurt? An action you think you won't regret
Is all it takes.

But tell me, wouldn't it be terrifying to live through,
Each thing you thought you wanted to do,
In the name of 'no regrets'?

Tell me, what exactly would you accomplish?
A sense of liberation from 'what-ifs', you say,
And I understand that. I would feel it too.
I would want to feel it.

But tell me, do you ever consider if you would really
Feel not regretful? Are you sure you wouldn't? For anything at all?
Wouldn't you, maybe, think, "I tried... but perhaps I shouldn't have"?

I would. Even though I would want to do certain things,
Some that I crave for, some that make me look cool, while some on whims, 
I would if I know it wouldn't hurt, 
I would if it would make someone (especially me) happy,
I would do everything thinking it would always be a lesson,

Still, I would not do most of them in the name of 'no regrets'.
I would first make sure I understand all that's at stake.
 
Because even if I don't regret, I would feel awful because of their consequence(s),
And living happily is more important than no regrets,
And no, they are sometimes, for some people, not mutually exhaustive.
If you want to live a life of no regrets, first prepare yourself for it.

Not to sound mean, but what if you drown?
You would first analyse the risks, right? Great. Go ahead! :D
Pic src: felixcastroblog.com

*** 

These days I look forward to writing something for the day, and most often it is a random thought, among the many, that gets picked up just as randomly as it came. Somewhat bored at work, I doodled 'no regrets' in my notepad, and I have no idea where it came from. Then in the next few minutes, draft 1 of this piece above was born, converted into draft 2 during the next boredom break!

I'm not sure if I can call these pieces poems anymore. Weren't they all supposed to rhyme at least somewhere? I'm currently reading a book on poetry called No Matter The Wreckage by Sarah Kay, and I suppose my subconscious is pretty much influenced! It doesn't take into account whether or not I'm liking the writing style.