A five year old once told me
“Sorry” doesn’t make it better
And I thought to myself
How true that statement is
“Sorry” doesn’t magically heal
Bumps, bruises, and scratches
Or rebuild block towers
Or mend a broken toy
“Sorry” doesn’t soothe
Hurt feelings from unkind words
Or broken promises
Or being left behind
“Sorry” doesn’t erase
The decades of hiding
Or the silence I kept
Or the memory carried through
“Sorry” doesn’t make it better
Though it can be a first step
But with no real conviction
No efforts to change
No actual admittance of guilt
“Sorry” can feel rather empty
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