Sorry drips from my lips like a heavenly manna,
A lily extended to appease the gods.
Sorry is who I am, it is who I have learnt to be.
In this world full of flying arrows and angry bullets
Sorry has become my armor,
My undignified shield of white petals.
Sorry appears at the slightest sign of anger,
It escapes my mouth before my brain can react.
You see sorry is the only way to survive,
In a world where anger is only preceded by ego.
Sorry is a way of life, a form of warfare
Fought by those who do not wish to fight.
I am sorry when I speak out of turn,
I am sorry when you raise your hand,
I am sorry when I breathe your air,
I am sorry for who I am.
Indeed sorry does have a heavy price,
As it weighs my head down towards your feet.
Sorry extinguishes my flames,
Evaporates my thunder storms,
But in return it lets me live.

Is this a life worth living?
You ask.
With my words always muffled by sorry ‘s drooping leaves.
With my mind always screaming,
Raging to fight,
Fighting it’s rage.
You have of course misunderstood.
Sorry is not a choice, it is a necessity,
Borne by those whose tongues do not dance among the flames,
Whose skins cannot act as armor
Protecting them from the arrows of spite.
No sorry is for those,
Who feel too deeply to not be affected by the world.
It is for those whose humanity soars in a world
Where being human is a crime.
Sorry is for us,
The ones who wish to love, in spite of never being loved back.
Sorry is all we know,
Because it is all you truly understand.

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