A sequel to “Grief made me a poet”

(Fiction again):

And when you have said what you wished you had said,
You think, ‘I should not have said!’
Because now you know-

When you had enough reasons in favor of you,
You had as many against you.
When you got carried away by emotions,
You had ignored logic.
When you interpreted things the way you liked them to be,
You forgot there was a simpler way.
When you acted foolishly,
You never realized you could have been more sensible.
When you weighed the pros and cons of the situation,
You never did it selflessly.
When you had tried something different,
You could have been the same old person.
When you thought this was your chance,
You never thought there wasn’t going to be a second chance.
When you feared hurting yourself,
You forgot you could also have hurt her.

But now you know-
You are a soldier and you’ve got to march on,
Over what you bled!

Grief made me a poet

My first poem (an extremely short one to begin with):

(That this is my first endeavor in poetry-writing will be more evident after you finish reading it.)

The pain, my friend, keeps growing every day,

How I wish I could say!

The countless sleepless nights that I spent- the sorrow and the vent,

The infectious smile on your face, the disturbing thoughts they raise,

Reminds me of the truth time and again,

That you are too good for me.

But something tells me, ‘Go, bare your heart before her’

I think it’s the smile on your face.

I am too weak, struck by grief,

How I wish I could say!