It was you; Then, It was I. A cycle. How the mighty have fallen! My youth lost, And I remember, dear dear mother, How I was a spoiled brat— And now? I have a spoiled brat on my own.
It was you;
Then,
It was I. A cycle.

How the mighty have fallen!
My youth lost,
And I remember,
dear dear mother,
How I was a spoiled brat—

And now?
I have a spoiled brat on my own. regret stories
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mizutralle
mizutralle Feelings into words. | Fem!21
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
I am close to this realization.

It was you; Then, It was I. A cycle. How the mighty have fallen! My youth lost, And I remember, dear dear mother, How I was a spoiled brat— And now? I have a spoiled brat on my own.

You warned me, time and time again— Yet I turn my ears deaf— Now I lament, How things have changed— I want things to be better, But things are a tad too late.

I feel like bawling on this happy sunny day, Because I remember... Because I regret. Time going slowly, I feel bitter. I think ‘what if’. I exhale a “too late”. And the day goes on.

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