New Troubles for a New Year (draft)

So brash, perhaps brazen, were you that self assured?
So sure you’re walking the path all your regrets have prepared?
So sadly sudden, half hidden, so utterly belated,
So amazed, your heels are not spontaneously immolated.

If I’m to be left behind without a single shed tear,
May I beg permission, this last once, to bend your ear?

I have two lists, three confessions and a catalogue of sorts
Not sure where to begin to make the future better than worst.