Regret

There shall come a day when one must die,
when one must leave this life and just fly,
maybe to another body or to heaven,
over this world, and a six or seven.

Then shall you have money and wealth you sought,
those cars and apartments you bought,
the affection of a family you made,
all set to die under a blade or a spade.

But what if you had left just one stone unturned?
What if it was the spark for which your heart burned?
What if there was one big task left to do,
it was one dream that along with you grew?

Would it be alright if fate had been unjust?
Would you be content like life was just a test?
What if it was you who lazed like a cat?
Would you still die with that ego under your hat?

What if it was just a step you could have taken,
that would've you from your slumber awaken?
What if you never knew who you were,
what were you born and what you live for?

How sad shall your death be when you're ripe,
if you still can't speak without drugs in a pipe?
How sad shall it be to be unable to cheer in joy,
to be sharing your fears and tears with a soft toy?

Would you really rest in peace under soil,
if your life was one such turmoil?
Would you be happy to die as a human,
knowing you've never lived like one?