Regret
Is a pleasure

For the
self-effacing

But you—

A lion mane
With hidden mistakes

Dormant, but aggravated
in this new-found territory

Awaiting
They day
They’ll pounce

But that sunrise won’t turn up
Forced to flee

They go
Where

They shouldn’t

Pride, gone
The lion
Nowadays

A mouse

Never understood
With no moves
written

Perhaps
That is
The new found requirement