I’m sorry,
I cry,
And laugh,
And sing,
And dance,
And run,
As fast as my legs will go,
To feel the wind on my back,
And the kiss of the sun.

I’m sorry,
I’m selfish,
And stubborn,
And shameful,
And humble,
And lonely,
And sometimes, even hopeful,
With a tongue that lashes like a whip,
Because I like the taste of cherry candy,
Melted on my lips.

I’m sorry,
I make mistakes,
And wishes,
And promises,
And trouble,
And scars,
That bend and bleed,
Wrapping around to morph into jealousy,
Doused in an alcohol that only burns.

I’m sorry,
I’m a liar,
And a dreamer,
And a fighter,
And a worrier,
And a troublemaker,
With a bag of tricks that don’t make sense,
And a deck of ripped, worn cards,
That I shuffle in my spare time, alone.

I’m sorry,
For the hurt,
And the tears,
And the joy,
And the love,
And for the times,
I apologized with “sorry’s” that dripped like pearls,
Created on wings of hope that sang,
“I’m sorry for being human.”