All women feel sorry.

The flower that smiles today
Tomorrow falls into decay.
Sunrise soon turns sunset.
Thick in hormones, youth is the best.
Be not over coy to lose the bet.
Once you lost your prime, you tarry.
No woman ever died, not being sorry.
06.02.2003

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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