"I'm Sorry"

“I’m Sorry”

A wasteland of sorries.
Too many have lived,
The sorries.
I feel sorry for them,
The forgotten apologies,
Left to rot, alone,
Lingering in the backseat of a crumbling Honda,
Curling in the hot sun,
Wilting away.
The sorries.
You created them – the sorries,
Cradled each as a newborn,
Cooing sweetly in their ear,
Counting each word with affection,
Like fingers, toes,
Smiling as you kissed the nose,
And said “I’m sorry.”
But sorries need care,
And you will not provide.
Another illegitimate apology,
Another broken promise,
And when the apology burns in anger,
Lashes out and screams for help,
Having been denied and cast aside,
All you will say is:
“I’m sorry.”