I let my foolish pride corrupt my tongue,
And cast a shadow where the sun once shone.
Too late I hear the songs we left unsung,
Now that I stand amidst the dust alone.
I seek no shelter in a vague excuse,
Nor wear the mask of innocence pretended.
For I have put your patience to abuse,
And left the tender bond of trust suspended.
If my sharp words have dimmed your gentle light,
Know that remorse now burns within my breast.
I yield my arms, I cease the useless fight,
To put this weary, warring heart to rest.
Grant but one moment to this humble verse,
For I would mend the fabric I have torn.
Let not this silence be a lasting curse,
But let forgiveness in our souls be born.
True apology requires the dismantling of the self to make room for the other’s pain. This poem serves as an olive branch, woven not from desperation, but from the dignified realization that love is worth more than being right.
