April PAD Challenge: Day 12

My sons are keeping me busy this morning, so let’s get straight into the prompt.  We’re going to write an apology poem.  You can apologize for ending a relationship, breaking a chair, or maybe you can even apologize for not being apologetic. 

Here’s my poem for the day:

“. . . I’m sorry”

 “Because the world is round, it turns me on.”
                           -The Beatles, “Because”

Because the day was nice. . . 
Because I opened the window. . . 
Because I left for a run. . . 
Because there was an unexpected shower. . . 
Because the birds were driven inside. . . 
Because the rain followed them in. . . 
Because I decided to splash through puddles. . . 
Because you beat me home. . .

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179 thoughts on “April PAD Challenge: Day 12

  1. Tanja Cilia

    Mind Your Language!

    Lost amongst my acres of knowledge
    And mounds of books
    I’m a mere academic
    Trying to make sense of life
    And love.
    I own a mellifluous mountain
    Of meandering meaningless words and
    I mouth them
    When the moment arises.
    I cannot tell the difference between
    Patois, idiolect, jargon, dialect,
    Idiom, argot, and slang… and gobbledygook…
    Or colloquialism… or waffle and claptrap.
    I care not for ephemeral sounds;
    I’m sorry; I don’t speak your vernacular.

  2. S.E. Ingraham

    Sorry – It Couldn’t Be Helped

    Dear William

    I’m so sorry
    I lied
    I did
    I really didn’t know
    What else
    To do
    The cops insisted
    Their hands were tied
    That night you were out of control
    At Mom’s
    Unless you really hurt someone
    They couldn’t make you leave
    They said
    I asked you to come outside
    With me
    Tried to get you to hit me
    But you were too drunk
    They told Mom and me to leave
    To be safe
    We had to leave her house
    Not you
    I’m sorry
    But that was so screwed up
    I knew they wouldn’t help her
    And they wouldn’t get help for you
    Even though that’s really what you needed
    No – they wouldn’t do anything
    Until you really hurt someone –
    Or worse
    And then
    Of course
    They’d lock you up
    Or at least
    Long enough
    Til you’d hurt yourself
    I knew how you felt about being caged
    I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with something better
    I hated having to lie to you
    I hated that I had to go back out west
    Where I lived
    But I did
    I was afraid that as soon as I left
    You’d hurt Mom
    You were such a mean drunk
    For such a normally nice guy
    You had total blackouts though
    So – I took advantage
    And I lied, I lied, I lied
    I’m sorry
    When we met at the White Spot
    That day
    I looked you right in the eyes
    And without tears or conscience
    I lied
    I told you the cops were after you
    That they’d sworn out an APB for you
    And that you had to leave the province
    And never come back
    I told you if you ever came back to Ontario
    They’d lock you up
    And throw away the key
    I know I’m the only person
    You ever trusted
    I know that
    You didn’t even ask me what you’d done
    Just accepted that you had to leave
    I don’t think you even talked to anyone
    Just hitched a ride out of T.O.
    And kept going ‘til you got to B.C.
    And stayed there
    For twenty years
    And never saw any of us again
    I’m so sorry
    So sorry
    You have no idea
    I’m not asking for forgiveness
    I just need you to know
    I’m sorry.
    Love Sis

  3. S.E. Ingraham

    Sorry – It Couldn’t Be Helped

    Dear William

    I’m so sorry
    I lied
    I did
    I really didn’t know
    What else
    To do
    The cops insisted
    Their hands were tied
    That night you were out of control
    At Mom’s
    Unless you really hurt someone
    They couldn’t make you leave
    They said
    I asked you to come outside
    With me
    Tried to get you to hit me
    But you were too drunk
    They told Mom and me to leave
    To be safe
    We had to leave her house
    Not you
    I’m sorry
    But that was so screwed up
    I knew they wouldn’t help her
    And they wouldn’t get help for you
    Even though that’s really what you needed
    No – they wouldn’t do anything
    Until you really hurt someone –
    Or worse
    And then
    Of course
    They’d lock you up
    Or at least
    Long enough
    Til you’d hurt yourself
    I knew how you felt about being caged
    I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with something better
    I hated having to lie to you
    I hated that I had to go back out west
    Where I lived
    But I did
    I was afraid that as soon as I left
    You’d hurt Mom
    You were such a mean drunk
    For such a normally nice guy
    You had total blackouts though
    So – I took advantage
    And I lied, I lied, I lied
    I’m sorry
    When we met at the White Spot
    That day
    I looked you right in the eyes
    And without tears or conscience
    I lied
    I told you the cops were after you
    That they’d sworn out an APB for you
    And that you had to leave the province
    And never come back
    I told you if you ever came back to Ontario
    They’d lock you up
    And throw away the key
    I know I’m the only person
    You ever trusted
    I know that
    You didn’t even ask me what you’d done
    Just accepted that you had to leave
    I don’t think you even talked to anyone
    Just hitched a ride out of T.O.
    And kept going ‘til you got to B.C.
    And stayed there
    For twenty years
    And never saw any of us again
    I’m so sorry
    So sorry
    You have no idea
    I’m not asking for forgiveness
    I just need you to know
    I’m sorry.
    Love Sis

  4. S.E. Ingraham

    Sorry – It Couldn’t Be Helped

    Dear William

    I’m so sorry
    I lied
    I did
    I really didn’t know
    What else
    To do
    The cops insisted
    Their hands were tied
    That night you were out of control
    At Mom’s
    Unless you really hurt someone
    They couldn’t make you leave
    They said
    I asked you to come outside
    With me
    Tried to get you to hit me
    But you were too drunk
    They told Mom and me to leave
    To be safe
    We had to leave her house
    Not you
    I’m sorry
    But that was so screwed up
    I knew they wouldn’t help her
    And they wouldn’t get help for you
    Even though that’s really what you needed
    No – they wouldn’t do anything
    Until you really hurt someone –
    Or worse
    And then
    Of course
    They’d lock you up
    Or at least
    Long enough
    Til you’d hurt yourself
    I knew how you felt about being caged
    I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with something better
    I hated having to lie to you
    I hated that I had to go back out west
    Where I lived
    But I did
    I was afraid that as soon as I left
    You’d hurt Mom
    You were such a mean drunk
    For such a normally nice guy
    You had total blackouts though
    So – I took advantage
    And I lied, I lied, I lied
    I’m sorry
    When we met at the White Spot
    That day
    I looked you right in the eyes
    And without tears or conscience
    I lied
    I told you the cops were after you
    That they’d sworn out an APB for you
    And that you had to leave the province
    And never come back
    I told you if you ever came back to Ontario
    They’d lock you up
    And throw away the key
    I know I’m the only person
    You ever trusted
    I know that
    You didn’t even ask me what you’d done
    Just accepted that you had to leave
    I don’t think you even talked to anyone
    Just hitched a ride out of T.O.
    And kept going ‘til you got to B.C.
    And stayed there
    For twenty years
    And never saw any of us again
    I’m so sorry
    So sorry
    You have no idea
    I’m not asking for forgiveness
    I just need you to know
    I’m sorry.
    Love Sis

  5. Hope Greene


    You’d like to know why I shot you a bell.
    I’ll tell you, I don’t like it either, but
    Well-I think we didn’t gel for a lot of reasons.
    The cinder blocks were one (though that was before you)-
    I don’t know. I thought you were having fun,
    You were always a better person than me.
    No? Alright. It’s my arm, you see?
    My withered arm form my womb
    Days that my mom says she can’t remember-
    It’s kind of a haze. It’s hard
    For me too, ok? We knew
    You were better than her and she ran so
    That’s why I had to pin you down-
    Yes. Alright. Literally, but if I
    Hadn’t you’d never have let me
    Haul into our wedding two hours late
    Or stay at Joe’s to rate the skanks
    Or to plant my cigarette butts in your hands.
    But what I really called to say is that
    I’m dying.
    And my disabled status has got us
    The charity of the state. Our son
    Will get a lump sum from the government
    To clear my child support outstanding
    From the past nine and something years.
    Take with the understanding that from here
    You and I and the boy are clear.

  6. Kate Miller

    Apology to Mom

    "I feel so diminished," my mother says to me
    over the phone. I imagine her sitting in her
    rocker beside the window in her room, Snickers
    the cat in her lap. Her life has been reduced
    to 400 square feet, her days regimented under some-
    one else’s schedule: meal time, medication time,
    shower time, bed time, someone who likes residents
    in bed early and up early-where is the Assisted Living
    for night owls? My brother finally sold the car she
    often forgot to drive, yet she doesn’t forget the freedom
    it represents. "When I buy another car" she says,
    "when I move back to my house.” Daily she mourns
    the life we’ve been steadily chipping away at, but
    at home she was forgetting to eat, to drink, even
    to go out of the house. Here she is safe and fed.
    “It’s like living in college dorms again, Mom,”
    I said. We both know the lie behind the analogy.
    It doesn’t signal beginnings, doors opening, freedom,
    but the beginning of the end, doors that will close,
    one by one, until the end. Forgive me.

  7. Sarah

    I’m sorry for the skys of grey
    that linger on from day to day
    but without rain
    upon our lives
    we cannot truly
    the SUN!

  8. Laurie Kolp

    I’m Sorry

    I’m sorry
    I could not help her
    as I was trying to do.
    Stop the drink,
    give up the pills,
    go to a meeting, or two.
    I’m sorry
    she did not listen
    to God’s voice,
    calling within
    to do His will,
    let go of the past,
    help others
    I’m sorry.

  9. LindaTK

    Day 12

    I’m Sorry

    For being preoccupied throughout your childhoods
    For the times that I lost my patience
    For my choices in men
    For the times that I wasn’t there for you
    For the lack of money
    For my lack of energy
    For the hours that I put into my work
    instead of you
    For my many mistakes
    I loved you
    I honestly did
    I still do
    Forgive me if you can

  10. Karen Masteller

    Surrounding me is early morning silence
    While stirring inside of me is daily confession-
    My necessary apology to God in my pre-dawn prayers.
    Prophetically I say I’m sorry for my day yet lived.

    Dear Heavenly Father,
    I confess my self-centered ways.
    I’m sorry I’m insensitive to others’ struggles and needs.

    I confess my jealous heart.
    I’m sorry I don’t easily applaud the success of others.

    I confess my critical spirit.
    I’m sorry I take life for granted and don’t count blessings

    Your word says I must take up the cross daily and follow You
    So I nail all the nasty stuff there
    And then live my day forgiven and directed by You.
    May my day’s words and actions prove my morning apology wrong.

  11. Raven


    words spoken harshly
    lies told
    forgiveness given freely
    taken stolen
    years drained away
    smashed and broken
    lives destroyed
    twisted corrupted
    i am so sorry
    i ever met you

    by TK Kietero

  12. tara

    I apologize for my heart
    That takes flight on
    The backs of hens
    When night approaches
    Next morning it will
    Be up crowing like a
    Rooster; but when danger
    Stalks it scatters.

  13. Lin Neiswender

    A Moment, Please

    I apologize
    For writing this bad poem
    I don’t know any better
    You understand
    I’m just compelled
    To pick up a pen and
    Spill my guts untidily
    On the page
    Sorry for the intrusion
    Into your reality
    It will be over
    In a moment

  14. Lynn

    Playing catch up…

    I’m sorry…

    "I’m sorry" can never undo
    the things that I have done,
    the family I stole from you
    when you were very young.

    I know that I can never explain
    or make you understand.
    I cannot take away your pain.
    I can only hold your hand.

    If I could do it over again,
    I’d put your needs before mine.
    Our family wouldn’t have suffered then…
    Everything would be fine.

  15. Sheryl Kay Oder

    Bonnie, how I identify with that poem. It made me laugh out loud.

    There aret so many wonderful, heartfelt, and thoughtful poems today. Some of these are simply amazing.

  16. Bonnie


    I’m sorry the house is a mess
    There’s no food on the table
    But I will fix something to eat
    Just as soon as I am able

    I’m sorry the car is out of gas
    Clothes are piled high on the bed
    I’ve not had time to pay the bills
    And the cat has not been fed

    There is no toothpaste in the tube
    No clean socks for you to wear
    There is no butter for your bread
    No shampoo for your hair

    See, I have goal that I must to write
    In April, a poem each day
    But don’t divorce me me yet, my dear
    I’ll straighten things back up in May

  17. M Schied


    You say, I don’t listen
    You say, I don’t understand
    You say, I’ve never appreciated your hurt
    You say, I don’t honor your family
    You say, I can’t appreciate your worth
    You say, You can’t love me
    I say, I do
    But it’s too late

  18. Barbara Malcolm


    How sorry do you have to be
    to say it?
    How much do you have
    to mean it?
    I learned many years ago
    that accepting the blame
    and apologizing
    often so disconcerts
    the offended one that
    punishment is less
    or even nonexistent.
    Say “I’m sorry” and
    really mean it,
    watch your stress

  19. Robin Morris


    I am sorry to have wasted so much of the world’s time with my aimless chatter like some drunk lady with too many bags asking the video clerk if she can use the bathroom and making sure she is as amusing as possible so he will let her even though she is a bit seedy but you know this is a bus stop so it’s reasonable but on the other hand, there’s a bathroom at the stop and shop and no one there will question your right to use it, but my opinion doesn’t matter: he smiles and gives her the key and we take out our video. As I was saying, I am not quite that remiss in social niceties and thanks to my late father have not had to completely rely on the kindness of strangers and yet I do feel that I do not earn my right to exist. My spotty employment record kicks me in the teeth each time social security sends me their updates informing me how laughingly little I will get when I come of the next age that I am rapidly approaching with nothing to show for it but a face that says botox this, I dare you. I am sorry Time, that I have let you pass. There was nothing else I could do and yet I regret it.

    (PS and I’m sorry this is post due.)

  20. Amanda Caldwell

    Just to lighten the mood, this is the first one I wrote for the prompt, after my object prompt poem the day before about a calculator was an utter waste. (I didn’t bother posting it, so don’t bother looking…)

    Bad Poem

    I’m sorry I wrote such a crap poem last night.
    If we make allowances, excuses are plenty:
    I was tired in the way that nothing seems possible,
    and only sleep can cure that certainty.
    And at least I wrote a poem, when my initial desire
    was to excuse myself for a day in toto.
    What was one day, after all, compared to
    a month’s worth of poems?
    Instead I let my bad judgment, depression, ennui,
    whatever we want to term it,
    craft a terrible poem
    that stands out in a line of admirable drafts
    like a canker, not worth rereading,
    much less revising.

    For that, I am sorry:
    that I missed my chance to run with that prompt,
    but more —
    that I lost a day to enjoy writing a poem.

    I should mention I’m sorry for this one as well.

  21. Amanda Caldwell

    This prompt was so beautiful and wrenching, both to write and to read. You all have been so honest and open, and I cried reading these poems (in a good way).

    Object Lesson

    My little boy,
    I really do love you.
    I look at you sleeping at night,
    or in the carseat through the back glass,
    or at the screensaver slideshow starring your greatest moments,
    or my laptop’s wallpaper featuring your smile,
    or I hear you giggle and watch you clap,
    or I make a face at your dad while you screech and spaz,
    and even then, even then,
    I know I was meant for this.
    You were meant for me,
    and I want to be your mom.

    So please forgive
    the words you don’t yet understand,
    the ones I will have to leave unsaid
    whenever you comprehend as well as hear.
    I have wanted people to know
    that there is more than joy
    in being a mother,
    that there is frustration
    and regret,
    strain on a marriage,
    lack of sleep, lack of time, lack of joy.
    This is not the sum of parenthood,
    but they are integers nonetheless,
    unspoken by some,
    and I wanted to be the one
    to speak the darkness
    as everyone else
    insists on light.

    But you are not an object lesson;
    you are a living being,
    not choosing to be born,
    but choosing now to live.
    And words I say to others
    might affect you as you grow,
    if they see you as less than worthy
    of my respect and love.
    So I affirm your being just as you are
    and will deemphasize the drain
    and reconnect with pleasure.

    This is not to sound defensive.
    But I really do love you.

  22. Cari

    Doing some catching up today! it’s been a busy month!!

    If I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn’t have done what I did.
    Sounds round a bout and vague, yes, but I am embarresed by my behavior as a teenager. Aren’t you?
    I hurt my friends with words. What awful things kids say. I killed friendships that may have lasted a lifetime.
    Although I’m not sure I am the only one to blame, I can only speak for myself, so…
    three simple words that could have rectified things years ago, but pride got in the way, so…
    I want to say…
    I am sorry

  23. Carol A Stephen

    Thought I put this up days ago too…


    for now regretted words said
    in the fire of anger,

    for impatience, consequence
    of being Aries,

    for neglecting friends
    for speaking without thought

    for using words to hurt
    when I am hurt

    for having expectations,
    for anger when they are not met.

    for hoping that you could love me
    given time.

    I’m sorry.

  24. Justin M. Howe

    You looked at me in shocked astonishment
    hitting my heart like super-charged defibrillation
    What day is it?
    What’s the date?
    Worst screw up ever
    Becoming a cliché
    Like a bad sitcom
    No way to recover
    I love you so much
    There was so much going on
    Days blending together
    No excuse
    Can’t blame you
    I can’t believe
    I forgot



    I can’t say I’m sorry
    and think that’s the end
    I’m supposed to
    adore you
    cherish you
    worship you
    You are the center of my universe
    somehow my orbit got askew
    Life happens doesn’t cut it
    I want to be worthy of you
    I want to cherish you
    I do worship you

    You inspire me
    Yet I let you down


    I’m not worthy to love you
    yet I do
    I’m not worthy of your love
    yet you still say you love me

    I adore you
    I will cherish you
    I will worship you

    It’s what you deserve
    It’s what I will do

    Don’t worry

    Ball’s in my court

    I won’t let you down

    I promise

    I’m sorry…

  25. priya

    there’s always a reason isn’t there?

    i’ve breathed wrong,
    or said the wrong thing,
    or didn’t do a thing the way i should have.

    sometimes it’s as if i feel like it
    when i haven’t done anything at all
    to deserve it.

    maybe it’s my way of repenting
    against all the ones i should be helping
    that i’m not helping,
    against all the mistakes that i’ve ever made.

    maybe i just feel it and then try so hard
    to come up with a reason why, just


    and even after all of that is done,

    for myself,

    i end up feeling


  26. AlaskanRC

    Trying to play catch up today. So here is my for Day 12.

    Momma is supportive
    yet there is worry in her eyes;
    a mirror image of my own.
    "I’ve always known you’d grow up
    and leave home," she says.
    We known this is true it’s the way life
    is but not quite in the way I have chose.

    Pappa is distant now
    he no longer seems to see me.
    For he realizes his oldest daughter
    is no longer his little girl.
    She’s heading out on her own.
    "You’ve signed away your life,"
    he says with little inflection.

    Yes, that may be true
    in a time of great conflict
    but it’s something I had to choose.
    Please support my choice and pray.
    "I’m sorry momma and pappa," I say.
    Dressed in Army Greens.

  27. Lyn

    Hollow apologies make me shiver
    When every word and action is questioned
    Public defense is avoiding self-incrimination
    I’m done saying ‘sorry’ for not being politically correct
    When unintentional and even the truth offends
    I refuse to tremble and quiver
    Sincere apologies I reserve
    For those I love and those who deserve

  28. Sara Diane Doyle

    I posted one already–a more William Carlos Williams inspired poem. But I think this is the one I really wanted to write, it just took longer to pull it out!

    Wrongfully Accused

    Perhaps it was because I
    was a lowly high school student—
    not, a you were, a grown-up
    with a degree—that you couldn’t say
    the two words due me.
    You had plenty of other words,
    cheater, liar, willful,
    (all thrown out in private, after class,
    but everyone heard them clearly.)
    Yet when truth slapped you
    upside your head (before Brady Fitzwater,
    who so gallantly offered, had his chance)
    you only said “You’re off the hook,”
    as if I were a fish, stupid enough
    to bite your line.

    You retired the next year
    and I like to think your quitting
    had something to do
    with the weight those two little words
    hold over the ones
    who refuse to release them.

  29. Lorien Vidal


    A bunch of words paired with a saddened, distraught face
    Meant to convey regret for an action
    Of oneself, or the universe in general
    What does it fix?
    Does it have thread to mend the shredded seams?
    Am I better because I’m sorry?
    What if I’m not?
    Is it evil, or just honest?
    Apologies if I’ve offended anyone, for I’ve no clue what I’m saying…

  30. jane


    Regret without repentance
    doesn’t mean much.

    As gratitude cannot be passive
    neither can remorse be.

    brings us redemption.

    * * * * *

  31. KP

    Dear Hallway,

    I’m sorry for every step.
    I trample you all day long.
    It’s not my fault,
    you just happen to be the path
    between my desk and the john.
    If you have a problem,
    don’t take it up with me,
    call the coffee cup,
    or my bladder — it’s tiny!

  32. Carol -Amherst, Mass

    I apologize

    I’m sorry you’re so loud
    As I try to eat my lunch
    While you blab on your cell phone
    Your face I want to punch
    For that, I apologize

    I’m sorry that you cut me off
    And then you drive real slow
    I’d like to ride your tail & honk my horn
    While swerving to and fro
    For that, I apologize

    I’m sorry that you take my spot
    In the Walmart parking lot
    I pray a bird will use your car
    As his private chamber pot
    For that, I apologize

    I’m sorry that you slam the door
    When by my desk you storm
    I’d like to sneak up right behind you
    And blast a large air horn
    For that, I apologize

    I’m sorry I’m the perfect one
    And myself am never rude
    And with that pat upon my back
    This poem I conclude
    For that, I apologize

  33. Yoli

    Turns out I’m very apologetic and couldn’t decide which poem to post, so I’m posting both!


    I want this to be the most perfect apology there ever was. I want to graciously say things that will enlighten the way you look at me and instantly you will understand me, comprehend my actions, forgive my faults and be sweet to my weakness and inabilities. I want you to see my heart cry for my shortcomings and feel the truth in me as I ask for your mercy. I want you to know there couldn’t possibly be anyone one more sorrowful and repentant than I. That which comes forth from me will be the most sincere you have ever heard. The words that I say on this day will make you fall on your knees and forgive me. I want this to be the most exalted apology there could ever be…
    …until next time.

    Thank You, and I Apologize

    Thank you for all the ways you see me.
    Thank you for all the things you do
    …for me
    …with me
    …because of me.
    Thank you for not judging
    and gently advising me.
    Most of all, thank you
    …for time
    …for love
    …for choosing me
    and forgive me.
    I should have told you sooner.
    For everything that is you
    thank you, and I apologize.

  34. Maureen

    I’m really enjoying writing these poems. Thanks for the challenge – from the land downunder. I’m a bit late sometimes, I hope that’s okay.


    I am sorry!
    But, you see,
    I was driving in peak hour traffic,
    I went to scratch my ear
    and my earring got caught
    in my driving gloves
    so I couldn’t steer
    or put the indicator lights on.
    I tried to use my left hand
    to switch on the indicators
    and accidentally
    turned on the windscreen wipers.
    In my panic
    I didn’t see the car in front’s
    brake lights go on
    and … well …
    you know what happened next.
    I know your car was brand new
    but … you do have insurance
    don’t you?


  35. Nathan Everett

    Ho sento

    For that night in Barcelona
    when I went out for a coffee
    and decided on a glass of wine instead
    which quickly turned into a bottle
    shared over tapas and laughter
    with a raven-haired Spanish beauty
    who invited me up for a nightcap
    in her plane on the way to Maljorca
    where we danced the Tango in the street
    long after the bars had closed
    and I awoke wearing a vest and a new tattoo
    that dances every time I breathe deeply
    of the gardenia-scented air
    in a garden surrounded by high walls
    two stories below the room that we shared
    where I left you sleeping
    when I went out for a coffee
    that night in Barcelona.
    Ho sento.

  36. Lydia


    No apologies do I have today,
    for love not sent, shared or conveyed.
    Love to all people in my life
    that are closest to me in heart and mind,
    is someting I send everyday in thoughts, words and action.

    My last apology was deeply felt,
    the result of my anger in words that flew
    with unthoughtful impulses that were released
    in my frustration and then regret.
    I was forgiven and for this I am grateful,
    for hurting the ones I love is never my intent.

    Speak softly and think hard before you speak,
    lest your words fly like mine do when you are weak.
    Apologies-not-needed days are always my favorites,
    for giving love and compassion is my natural way,
    a path of beautiful grace that I wish to take each day.

  37. Sheryl Kay Oder

    Today’s poems is just for fun. I have stopped writing to work on taxes, so I figure I will write an apology to my muse for being behind in my poetry and writing dreadful verse.

    Pitiful ‘Pology

    The mythical muse must wait.
    The taxman’s at my gate.

    No wordplay is in view.
    Various taxes now are due.

    Numbers I must be crunching,
    not words in poems bunching.

    No alliteration is in sight.
    Is my rhythm close to right?

    Word pictures tend to flee.
    Numbers give me misery.

    Rhymes I need to force.
    Is this dreadful — well, of course.

    So sorry my mythical muse.
    Now, please don’t blow a fuse.

  38. IleanaCarmina

    Thanks everyone for such wonderful, heartfelt poetry. These prompts are creating a lot of striking work. I just wanted you all to know how much I’m learning by reading what is posted. Thank you!!

    Here’s my late post:

    Sorry is tossed out of his mouth
    Just a pile of refuse at my feet
    What can I do with this?
    It’s not going to bring back
    The hours my husband sat at home
    Hungry and alone
    It won’t take away those extra points
    Of blood pressure as I screamed home
    Risking yellow lights and shaking fists
    As I swerved around the ‘slow’ people
    All those dinner plans with friends
    All those missed meetings
    All those hurt feelings
    I’m the one that has to say
    I’m sorry, really I’m sorry
    But at least I mean it

  39. Chris Granholm Jr.

    Seizures of Requisite Rescuing and Yearning

    "Sorry seems to be the hardest word"
    I’m sorry
    I am the way I am
    that I’m not him
    that I’m so far away
    for what I can’t help but feeling
    that I ask for so much
    for your losses
    I’m sorry that you can’t have the
    happiness I want for you

  40. Amy Cornell

    Here is the second:


    I’m sorry that I let go…
    So sorry that you’ll never know
    How much you mean to me.
    I sent you to a better place
    Somewhere you could let the
    flower of all your life blossom its brightest
    While I sit back in the shadows,
    So I can see

    by Barbara Moore

  41. Amy Cornell

    My apology to my husband: When Two are One

    How do they do it?
    The people who live alone; self-contained
    Without sharing life.
    I could not exist without sharing.
    I do not wish, to exist without sharing…

    When the happiness in life is shared
    it doubles the joy.
    When the sorrow is shared it lessens
    the sorrow.

    Can you do it?
    Can you live alone, self contained;
    Without sharing life.
    Come share with me…

    by Linda Allen

    On Saturdays I help lead a women’s writing circle at the Monroe County Corrections Center in Bloomington, Indiana. I took your challenge today to the women in the circle and offered to post any apology poems on-line for them. Here is the first by Linda Allen.

  42. Jennifer Fagala

    Sorry for this…

    Sorry for this
    Sorry for that
    why are we always sorry for
    Why do we always use words
    like they are salve
    on a situation burning.
    Instead I would do, not say
    with hammer and nails of the soul
    build the bridge I broke
    so when we walked this way again
    we could pass
    as friends

  43. JL Smither


    I’m sorry I neglect you, poems,
    although I hope you see
    it’s really for the better.

    After all our hard work,
    what if you fail, you flop,
    an embarrassment?

    Or what if you’re a monstrous success,
    over-analyzed by anyone who wants
    a free peep into my head?

    Or worse, what if you neither fail
    nor succeed, leaving us exposed,
    floating in obscure mediocrity?

    So I’m sorry I can’t
    create you today;
    it really wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

  44. tim

    everything i learned
    the changes believed i made
    i thought for once i had it all together
    i ache
    sorry is not a large enough word
    i thought we were growing
    only to find
    you hurt worse than ever
    because i am right back where i began

  45. Terri

    The wedding plans have me nervous,
    I have to prepare the house for guests,
    The cats won’t stop fighting
    Cat hair flying about a freshly cleaned room,
    My hormones are fluctuating–
    Tears turn to anger in the blink of an eye
    and I lash out,
    Your patient understanding only serves
    to make me madder as it is undeserved.

    You kiss my damp cheek as it lies on the pillow,
    Drifting off to sleep as I toss and turn,
    You know things will be ok tomorrow
    My apology,no less sincere because you hear it every month,
    will be accepted.

    You hug me and I feel your love
    fill the very marrow of my bones,
    How did I come to be so blessed.

  46. Lisa McMahan

    I’m Sorry

    I’m sorry for the day is long
    I’m sorry for the things done wrong
    I’m sorry for the dark of night
    I’m sorry for never being right
    I’m sorry for the games we play
    I’m sorry for the words I say
    I’m sorry for the rainy skies
    I’m sorry for the hurt in your eyes
    I’m sorry for everything I do
    But I’m not sorry for loving you.

  47. Shannon Rayne

    Abalone Necklace

    I lost you yesterday
    abolone purple pendant
    the colour of the first sky I painted
    the colour of the chakra speaking to intuition
    the colour of the layers I dress my skin.

    I lost you yesterday
    twirling an uncareful finger
    around the chain in which you clung to
    below my collar bone
    the space between my heart and lips
    in which you rested to colour my breathe
    irredescent glittering purple.

    I lost you yesterday
    on a date, anxious as I always am
    careless with the shell
    that has become the symbol for being unique.

    I am sorry that I wasn’t more careful.

  48. Crystal Cameron

    "Never too late for apologies"

    I apologize, but am not sorry for,
    the acidic way my tongue bathed
    the fragile film of your conscience
    hoping to dissolve it into a murky
    puddle of guilt on the floor of my
    castle facade. It was unkind of me
    to leave the knife of my creative
    talent in the rain for several days
    so that it might breed bubbles of
    rust and become dull, knowing
    full well my intent to use it in
    acts of mental disembowelment.
    I apologize for being irrationally
    clever, but am not sorry for the pain
    I’ve been cruel puppet-master to.
    And i dearly hope that this
    apology finds you well, though
    i know you’re still picking glass
    out of the your pink heart tissue,
    still sanitizing the cuts in your ego.

  49. Don Ford

    Gunslinger’s Remorse

    I put that bullet in his chest,
    I warned him to back off
    He had more nerves than brains that day
    I almost walked away – turned soft

    But then he turned and fired at me
    I looked up from the place I lay
    He nearly hit me in the heart
    It didn’t have to end this way

    It’s not in me to kill a man
    My mamma raised me better
    But daddy said to watch my back
    I aimed just right of center

    I’m sad to see his blood run cold
    I had to shoot in self defense
    He left me with no other choice
    Sadly it was me or him
    By Don Ford

  50. Tiffany B

    To A Poet

    I am sorry the moon affects you so deeply
    and reminds you of Sir Patrick Spence.

    The night is beautiful and never still,
    and you are dark
    and feel every breeze and breath.

    To be in love, in every word and every line.
    Every broken
    and enjambed heart.

    For me, you aren’t just a poet you are, Poet,
    all that is art and beauty in the world.

    I love you starving,
    I love you hysterical,
    I love you naked.

    And I am sorry that it hurts so much to feel,

    Oh, Poet. I am yours and always will be,
    still unravish’d love of you, and your poetry.

    I am sorry about so many things,
    but most of all about the plums.
    I promise to buy you more.

  51. Sarah


    You sat on the floor outside
    fifth-period geometry.
    We’d been arguing all day,
    and I snapped at you,
    but I honestly don’t remember
    making you cry,
    though you often remind me.
    It was a stupid, snotty
    little sophomore comeback,
    and if I said it today,
    you’d just laugh, tell me
    to get over myself.

  52. Janice

    All the La in the World

    Marriage never meant
    for me, changing
    into someone else. I wanted love

    to grab me in a squeeze the way
    the women in the Protestant church I grew
    up in, squeezed me between their flimsy
    birdlike bones into the bosoms
    of their floral dresses. A light love.

    I am not a Muslim.
    I do not swaddle my hair
    in sweet scarves, or turn to the East
    (except for clam chowder and the usual things.)
    I am sorry I cannot grow wings
    and fly into a culture
    into the on-one-condition
    protection of your arms.

  53. Tad Richards

    This is just to say
    I found the
    naked pictures
    of your wife and mailed them
    to the enemy

    I had to
    do something to
    get the dogs off my scent
    and I didn’t know
    you’d be back

    excuse this note
    sorry I couldn’t wait
    I would have served tea
    but there’s none
    and by the way

    I did save a couple
    of shots for myself
    to trade in
    case of capture
    or for those lonely nights

    you know how it is
    or you don’t
    you’ve probably never
    had to cross the border
    or thought about it

  54. Monica Martin

    I’m sorry we couldn’t be
    what you wanted us
    to be. All you wanted
    was a chance to prove
    yourself, but I chose
    someone else. Now
    we are no longer friends.
    I am sorry for both of

  55. samantha altman


    I’m sorry if I hurt you
    I’m sorry that you’re sad.
    I’m sorry about what happened,
    Because it’s making me feel bad.

    I’m sorry that love is complicated
    And our problems are always hard.
    I’m sorry that I’m failing you,
    My heart is burned up, completely charred.

    I’m sorry things are hardly right
    Even in the dead of night.
    I’m sorry that it seems hopeless
    And we’re always trying to fight.

    I’m sorry and I love you
    This will work out, you will see.
    And I hate to tell you this,
    But this won’t be my last apology.

  56. Rebecca

    Wedding Photos

    So sorry the sunscreen
    Missed that quarter-sized
    Circle at your elbow
    That your clavicle is now
    That your toes are redder
    Than “I’m Not Really A Waitress”
    This maid of dishonor is only
    Lessened by the fact that
    Half of my neck vies
    With your should blades
    For crimson glow

  57. Brittany Butts

    Sorry for surfing the net on company time.
    Sorry for playing solitaire when I should have
    been preparing that presentation.
    Sorry for spending more time at the watercooler
    chitchatting than I do at my desk.
    Sorry for checking my personal email and letting
    my work email pile up.
    Sorry that you have to go now so that I can check
    my myspace.

  58. Omavi

    Just Numb

    “I turned to look but it was gone. I cannot put my finger on it now. The child is grown, the dream is gone. I have become comfortably numb.” – Pink Floyd “Comfortably Numb”

    As the feelings drain from negated fingertips
    And the feeling that we need to live
    Only comes into a complacent being
    Only begins to requisition that lack of feeling
    Wondering why I need to feel but I refuse to feel
    And feeling is just the remembrance of what is
    And feeling is just a façade of what your will believes
    And feeling is just a soliloquy and a story forgotten
    I don’t want to feel
    I don’t need to feel
    I don’t want to awaken from this negation of feeling
    Happy to experience this expanse of nothing
    Ecstatic without really knowing
    The means or methods of that thing
    Comfortably numb
    Because that’s the way of being
    Don’t want to feel happiness
    Or being
    I really don’t need love or affection
    I just want silence to be my king
    And the blood retracts from my wanting skin
    Not wanting to feel
    Never wanting to steal the light from being
    Never wanting to even recognize
    That to live
    Is too truly want to live
    I just want to be numb
    I just want to be allowed
    To forget that life is moving

  59. Sue Bench

    “I’m Sorry”

    Thanks for the challenge
    A poem a day!
    I knew I could do this,
    It’s almost like play.

    Yet life got too busy,
    With parties and stuff!
    Words filled my brain,
    More than enough!

    The words and the phrases
    have been in my mind.
    Today I’ll play catch-up,
    And write down each line.

    Though life is so busy,
    One must not forget.
    Living is writing
    Along with the rest.

    So Robert, I’m sorry,
    I didn’t meet test.
    I’ve had fun trying, though
    And gave it my best.

  60. Mike Padg

    You know I never meant
    to say, I didn’t care,
    That I didn’t want
    to be there, and wish
    I never had been. I
    wish there were a way,
    you could believe it when
    I say, I love you,
    and I’m sorry

  61. Liza


    When I remember the pain
    of our passionate finale
    I feel like I should say sorry
    for all the pain I caused
    But then I realize
    we both needed to say sorry
    We lost something special
    only my heart couldn’t accept
    I apologized forever
    to my soul’s everlasting pain
    I am sure we were one
    but then the pain cuts us in two
    How can I bring us back
    How can this be so gone
    I am here
    You are nowhere to be found
    I am sorry

  62. Laural


    I’m sorry I didn’t
    Grab the ring the first time
    See the offering when it was made
    Show how much I valued love
    When I saw it earlier.

    I’m sorry I didn’t
    Let him down easily
    Respect his position
    Feel what he’d feel
    When I said it was over.

    I’m sorry I didn’t
    Have my first child
    At a more convenient time
    When I could revel
    In his uniqueness.

    I’m sorry I didn’t
    Enjoy the ocean more
    When it was within reach
    When I could walk there
    Know it was not for-granted

  63. Susan Reichert


    I will tell you I am sorry now
    for I am sure before the sun goes down
    I will have made you angry.

    I will tell you I am sorry now
    because I know tomorrow will
    be the same repeat of today.

    In fact I will place a sign around my neck
    saying I’m sorry on the front and the back.
    Then you will see it whether I am coming or
    going. I won’t have to say it again.

    April 12
    Day #12

  64. Rosemary Nissen-Wade


    for loving you
    sorry for leaving you

    sorry for saying yes
    sorry for saying no

    sorry for hello
    and sorry for goodbye

    sorry for all the years
    and for these recent days

    sorry now
    and sorry forever

    sorry sorry sorry

    © Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

  65. Linda

    Another one, this silly little ditty came to me as I woke…

    Google Me

    my latest
    and greatest
    novel yet,
    with laptop
    on my knees,
    I’m sorry
    I did not
    listen to
    my ever
    spouse who pushed
    to spend ten
    Gs on a
    future based
    on some stock
    I’d never
    heard before.

  66. Jaywig


    I’m sorry.
    You arrived, we got
    old stuff out of the way,
    and built an enterprise
    exciting. Then this:
    it would have been less
    stressful if I’d found
    the cancerous lump before
    you came. I’m sorry for
    the tease and the long time
    leaving you to it: yet
    knowing you are using this
    as opportunity to re-build,
    craft something wonderful.
    Still, that joy and fun –
    I’m sorry I’ve been stolen,
    stolen away …

  67. Corinne

    Tonight, my cyber allies, my heart goes out to all of you, and some of you more than others.

    Is anyone else besides me following the Don Swearingen saga? It’s very intriguing.

    And, Jay Sizemore, there is a flow from my heart directly to yours. Thank you for your sharing.

    Sweet dreams to all, and the miracle of a new day ahead, with perceptive hearts to feel us through it.


  68. Corinne

    I lost the first post, the line

    sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall

    should be

    in your coma, sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall

    Thanks, Corinne

  69. Corinne

    Sorry, Harley, the black and white cat

    When I gave you that last shot
    of insulin
    I really had no idea that feline diabetes
    could reverse. After the seizure,
    the only thing I knew to do was hold you carefully,
    sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall
    all night until the vet opened and they could
    give you that shot to release you from this world
    and my error. My sweet.
    Sorry I ended your life, my loving, loyal friend.
    I didn’t know, and I should have.


    Sorry this is late! I was out all day.

  70. Shirley T.


    He said we had to
    And I agreed, finally.
    The rot had gone too far,
    And really,
    There was nothing to be saved.
    I can’t help but feel responsible,
    Though, now you’re homeless.
    All I can do is leave a few things
    On the porch rail, maybe, and
    Recommend that stand of firs;
    But no nesting here, not this year.
    I am sorry, truly sorry,
    The old oak has to go.


    I ran all the way
    Through the rain,
    Splashing in every puddle
    ‘Til there was mud to my knees,
    Hair plastered, heart pounding,
    Lungs bursting, tears choking,
    Ran all the way home.
    I’m sorry. So sorry.
    Sorry I went anyway when
    You said you’d be busy;
    Sorry I saw her there.
    Sorry I saw you together.
    Sorry I believed you,
    Believed in us. Sorry.

    Shirley T

  71. Virginia Snowden

    4/12/07 –
    I Apologize

    I apologize, for being the daughter that hung out late.
    I apologize, for being the daughter that cut school.

    I apologize, for being the little sister that always wanted to tag along.
    I apologize, for being the sister that wasn’t sympathetic to your plight.

    I apologize, for being the friend that didn’t listen enough.
    I apologize, for being the friend that forgot your birthday.

    I apologize, for being the lover that didn’t love enough.
    I apologize, for being the lover that couldn’t show her love.

    I apologize, for being the mother that yells too much.
    I apologize, for being the mother that sometimes forgets to give hugs.

    I apologize, for being the daughter that took care of you when you got sick.
    I apologize, for being the daughter who did what I could to make you proud.

    I apologize, for being the little sister who thought you were the world.
    I apologize, for being the sister who wanted to be everything that you were.

    I apologize, for being the friend that always cried with you.
    I apologize, for being the friend that went to hell and back with you.

    I apologize, for being the lover that you hurt and yet I stayed.
    I apologize, for being the lover who is still here loving you through the good and the bad.

    I apologize, for being the mother who forgets herself to make sure they have.
    I apologize, for the mother who slaves to make sure they are happy, healthy and safe.

    I apologize, for simply just being who I am
    I will apologize today, but not tomorrow…take me for who I am or take nothing at all.

    This is for all those that have forgotten that you are wonderful just as you are never let anyone tell you any different…

  72. Renee Goularte

    “Sorry” has a double edge
    for, truth be told, we make
    our choices consciously
    for good or bad. Still,
    no atonement can undo the way
    I turned your life inside out
    in order to live my own,
    nor would I have been able
    to do differently.

  73. Judy Stewart

    Sorry Poem

    I am forever saying I am sorry,
    sorry I did not remember
    sorry I did not go
    sorry I stepped on your toe
    sorry I let the door go
    sorry I did not say sorry
    sorry that I am late
    sorry I hit you in the face
    sorry I was not there when you needed me
    sorry I did not say what needed to be said.
    sorry it is late so I must go.
    I am forever saying I am sorry.

  74. Cathy Sapunor

    Now Girls, Let’s Share

    For Sandy Graves (this is her real name,

    I said I was sorry back in 1962
    and I think I meant it at the time
    I still had the taste of your forearm
    in my mouth, and the yard duty lady was
    blowing the whistle and you shrieking
    and clinging to the ball even though
    sharp little second grader baby teeth
    gripped you harder. You wouldn’t let go
    of the big ball, and it was my turn. MY TURN!
    Mrs. Sah, our teacher, gave me an
    F For The Day and I am still ashamed that the first
    bad grade I ever got upset me more
    than biting
    my best friend at Bidwell School.

  75. Jolanta Laurinaitis

    Sorry to my herbs wich I forgot to water…

    I am sorry now
    That I never replenished
    Your life
    I always forgot
    to shower you
    In your life giving
    I am sorry now
    As you sit dry
    And dishevelled
    On my sill
    I am sorry now
    That I let you die
    Without much care
    I am sorry now
    That I will not be able
    Taste your fine
    Zingalicious tastes
    In my cooking.

  76. Jay Sizemore

    I wasn’t there

    but I was there…
    trapped in the body
    of an eight-year-old child,
    my short fingers capable
    of sending my toys
    to imaginary graves,
    but not stopping
    the tears
    from streaming
    down my mother’s face,
    not stopping the faceless
    fist from tangling
    in her long blonde curls
    and dragging her from my room
    and down the hall.

    I can still hear her screaming.

    I can still hear the voice
    of the monster
    calling her bitch,
    telling her he is going to
    get out his knife,
    he is going to
    cut the baby
    out of her guts,
    telling her she will never
    leave him again.
    I can still hear the thud
    of his fist in the wall
    and the struggle
    as she fights her way
    back out of the darkness.

    Moonlight falling in
    through the rectangular windows
    of this small trailer
    in the Kentucky woods,
    my sister and I
    curled under the blankets
    of our separate bunks
    and held our breath,
    our immature minds
    incapable of knowing
    that we could be hearing
    the sounds of
    our mother about to die.

    But the light came on,
    and with a flurry of shouts
    and sobs we were in the truck
    and gone,
    leaving the demon
    alone to destroy
    everything that could be broken.

    I was too young.
    I couldn’t say
    don’t go back,
    I didn’t know
    my sister’s innocence
    was under attack,
    I didn’t know
    the words “abuse”, “sexual”,
    or “victim”,
    but I felt
    deep down
    a sense of wrong.

    I’ll never understand
    why she did it,
    believed his apologies and lies,
    left me for a year
    to live with my grandparents,
    while they moved back
    into a different trailer
    in a different town,
    why he was allowed
    to hold my baby brother
    in his tainted hands.
    I wasn’t there
    but I was.

    I’m sorry I wasn’t old enough
    to know how to load a gun.

  77. Bruce Niedt

    Apologies to My Body

    Sorry, teeth, that things decayed,
    and we had to fill in all the bad spots.

    Sorry, eyes, that things were strained
    and hadn’t been clear.

    Sorry, hair, that I didn’t really miss you
    till you were gone.

    Sorry, skin – you had your day in the sun,
    but you were burned too many times.

    Sorry, belly – I know you had too much beer,
    too many cheeseburgers.

    Sorry, knees and back, that you were under stress
    from all that extra weight.

    Sorry, lungs, that I made it harder for you
    to breathe easy.

    Sorry, arteries,
    that I blocked your way.

    And sorry to you, heart, especially –
    thank you for letting the doctors talk you
    into giving me another chance.

    I want to live with you a few more years, body.
    I promise to treat you right.

    [editorial correction of the next-to-last line]

  78. Bruce Niedt

    Apologies to My Body

    Sorry, teeth, that things decayed,
    and we had to fill in all the bad spots.

    Sorry, eyes, that things were strained
    and hadn’t been clear.

    Sorry, hair, that I didn’t really miss you
    till you were gone.

    Sorry, skin – you had your day in the sun,
    but you were burned too many times.

    Sorry, belly – I know you had too much beer,
    too many cheeseburgers.

    Sorry, knees and back, that you were under stress
    from all that extra weight.

    Sorry, lungs, that I made it harder for you
    to breathe easy.

    Sorry, arteries,
    that I blocked your way.

    And sorry to you, heart, especially –
    thank you for letting the doctors talk you
    into giving me another chance.

    I want to live you a few more years, body.
    I promise to treat you right.

  79. Karen


    (Inspired by a true story I listened to today)

    I Apologize

    Didn’t mean to get drunk again
    Can’t help it they kept letting me off light
    Couldn’t help it when I slammed into his truck.
    How was I supposed to know
    The driver of the truck
    Was a real flesh-and-blood father
    A happily married husband
    Who was supposed to grow old with his wife
    And play with his grandchildren?
    In court you offered me,
    In the stabbing fresh pain of your loss,
    Your forgiveness
    And the open arms of God.
    Even though I know now I’m forgiven
    I sit here in prison
    And remember every day
    That my baby was born a year to the day
    After I killed your husband.

  80. Matthew Falk

    I’m sorry I dissed William Carlos Williams,
    And I’m sorry that he’s your favorite poet.
    But I mean, come on, really:
    “No ideas but in things”?
    I’m not buying it.
    We have plenty of things.
    (It’s a material world, after all.)
    Ideas are what we really need right now.
    Williams’s wheelbarrow’s rusting
    Out there in the acid rain, and his
    White chickens are coming home to roost.
    And so what if he ate the plums
    That were in the god-damn icebox?
    Why is that interesting?
    And I’m also sorry
    That I tried to apologize
    And I made it worse.

  81. Earl Parsons


    It seems as if ‘bout everyone’s
    Apologizin’ for what’s been done
    By others many years ago
    Or recently by those they don’t know
    Seem’s rather stupid
    If you ask me
    Too much apologizin’
    Don’t you agree?

    We need to quit apologizin’
    And stand up like real folk
    We’re turning into a land of wimps
    Our country’s gettin’ broke
    This apologizin’ makes no sense
    What we got to be sorry for
    America’s the greatest place to live
    If you don’t like it, there’s the door

  82. Christiane

    I am sorry
    I laughed at you
    When the phone
    And you thought
    It was your mother
    When in fact
    It was just a
    Salesman trying
    To convince you to
    Switch phone services

  83. Victoria Hendricks

    I’m sorry I judge.
    I correct grammar
    I wince at profanity
    and poor table manners.
    I miss so mych love
    because of weak syntax.
    I’m sorry I judge.

  84. Ang

    Father’s Day

    I’m sorry I wasn’t there
    That Father’s Day
    Even though you aren’t my father
    Because of me
    You are one
    I justfied it in my head
    Told myself it didn’t matter
    It was the kids kids who should be there
    I was so wrong
    So callous
    So wretched
    You were so hurt
    Please forgive me

  85. Bonnie MacAllister

    Apology to Ndokaa Bundu

    I suppose it starts with
    I’m sorry you have become so public,
    Our undies aired out on other continents.
    I’m sorry that an editor knows how I feel
    Sometimes before you do.
    I’m sorry that I’m writing your least favorite
    Type of poetry, that horrible repetition
    Of confession that makes you cringe.

    I’m not sorry that I cheered
    When you read your “Piece Poem”
    In the glare of that blue light installation
    Of the man who tried to hold your cock.
    I’m not sorry that I chased
    You with red light epistles
    When you wrote a love song to my cat.
    I’m not sorry you visited me every day
    After I defaced the street with illegal sculpture.

    I’m really not sorry that you survived me
    Now that I’ve quit the habit
    That likely gave you the cancer.
    Now I’ve scripted our lives again
    For any voyeur on my blog.

  86. Susan M. Bell

    Mom’s Apology

    As she lay in the small hospital bed, delirious with the drugs used to hold
    back pain, I heard her talking to my grandmother. I listened as she spoke,
    just like they were face to face. As if the other woman was standing there
    next to her bed. She reached out her blue-veined hand, paper thin skin
    stretching over small bones, as if to stop someone who wasn’t there from
    leaving. “I’m sorry, Mama.” She spoke the words quietly, her voice a small
    whisper in the chill air of the white-walled hospital room.

    As she took her last breath, she finally found peace for some past wrong.

  87. Mike Barzacchini

    You’re sorry?

    You said you were sorry
    For ending it all
    On Valentine’s Day.
    Well, just why
    Were you sorry?

    For keeping me waiting
    In a car with no heat
    While the petals
    On the roses I’d
    Brought for you froze?

    For leaving out the
    Notebooks filled
    With love letters
    I thought were for me
    Until I read a little deeper?

    For not having the guts
    To look me in the eye
    And say, “It’s Over.”
    Instead, calling collect.
    (Of course I accepted the charges.)

    Or simply for the
    Shoddy cliché of it all.
    Dumped on Valentine’s Day.
    Now there’s a rejection
    That keeps on giving.

  88. SaraV

    The Lackluster Apology

    I’m sorry that I have the energy
    To smile and rub your shoulders
    I’m sorry that I enjoyed my day
    That I delight in the new flowers
    The silly thing our son said
    The bliss of going for a walk with a friend
    That I have the time to make your life simple
    And full of love and peace
    That I am not miserable and having crazy days
    Like you
    That I’m clearly not as important as someone
    Who has impossibly difficult days
    And mountains of pressure and frustration
    Over and over and over again
    But mostly I’m sorry that you don’t
    How it was when I was stressed, fried
    And miserable too
    And the tension between the two of us
    Just about broke us in two
    And when I told you to stop buying things
    That you ignored me and said "it’s a homerun."
    And now it’s a headache
    And that you still don’t see it
    But I’m not sorry that you’re a dreamer
    A risk taker, and an artist and still
    The handsomest man I know

  89. Shana

    Levels of sorry

    I’m sorry I flushed your army man down the toilet
    I’m sorry you feel that way
    I’m sorry I didn’t mark the anniversary of your death anywhere near well enough

    I’m sorry your mama’s so ugly
    I’m sorry you can’t see things my way
    I’m sorry you married an alcoholic

    I’m sorry you were ever born
    I’m sorry things didn’t work out, too
    I’m sorry your son won’t speak to you anymore and you don’t know why

    I’m sorry I kicked you in the shins that one time
    I’m sorry I burned your meal
    I’m sorry you have seen and lived through unspeakable horror

    I’m sorry I told teacher you cheated off my test
    I’m sorry your position has become redundant
    I’m sorry that your country is being bombed

    I’m sorry I ate your last jellybean
    I’m sorry you don’t like your tea
    I’m sorry that your country is starving

    I’m sorry I bit you
    I’m sorry I ever met you
    I’m sorry you have lost your parents and en entire generation to AIDS

    I’m sorry I set your bird free
    I’m sorry you posted that craigslist ad, too
    I’m sorry you died alone

  90. Tria

    Just A Friendly Reminder

    I am sorry
    if you think your mother works here,
    because she doesn’t, and obviously she
    didn’t teach you any manners, either.
    If she did, if she had, you would know
    that it takes approximately thirty seconds
    to put in a new filter pack and press the button
    to wipe down the counter with a paper towel
    to replace the empty roll
    to clean up after yourself, you slob.

    I am sorry
    if you think I am being passive
    aggressive about this. But I am not.
    I will not play childish games.
    I’m the mature one here. Your filth
    and inconsideration disgust me,
    and if you do not take immediate
    action, I will get the proper authorities
    involved and you don’t want that,
    believe me. Because I know
    that you stole my last HotPocket
    that your skeezeball boyfriend stays over
    that you pee in the gym shower
    that you took the ramekins and brulee
    torch I purchased in Petaluma
    and that angers me.

    I am sorry
    that you are too ignorant to understand
    that happiness is a clean environment
    where we can all get along. So please
    think of others for a change
    take those extra few seconds from your life
    and make a stinking effort.
    Isn’t this enough for me
    to put up with, to endure?
    Nothing personal, OK?
    Thanks, and have a nice day.

  91. Rodney C. Walmer

    Here is the original poem that was written about her. And a date that I saw her.

    Homeless Woman on The Street

    She was walking, no shoes on her feet
    the cloths she’d worn
    all looked tattered and torn
    white shirt filthy and covered in dirt
    clearly another victim of life’s
    different kinds of hurt
    filth and sores covered her feet
    made me wonder,
    when she’d had last to eat

    People all passed her by
    they’d stare
    but no one stopped to ask her why
    her life was in such despair

    I saw her hours later
    a few blocks away
    I was honestly afraid of her
    as she ate what she’d scavenged that day
    a half piece of burger
    someone had thrown in the trash
    I just wanted to encourage her
    perhaps give her some cash

    I just left her there
    thinking of what I might’ve done
    how I might have shown I cared
    but, in truth, all I did was run
    just like everyone else
    who just stopped and stared. . .

    (C) Rodney C. Walmer 11/12/07 Inspired by a female homeless person, I saw by my job, both
    going into work and by my car blocks away, as I left work, one day about 2 weeks ago.

  92. Rodney C. Walmer

    When all you can do is pray

    I saw you walking in the street
    torn shoes on your feet
    cloths all tattered and covered with dirt
    I can only imagine how been battered and hurt

    I am sorry this world is so cold
    how little so many seem to care
    I am sorry, you’ve nothing stable to hold
    nor a warm bed at night to share

    I thought to offer you money
    then I realized
    how little that would do
    Sometime’s life’s not so funny
    when compassion’s disguised
    by people who are almost like you

    As you walked away
    I know you saw me looking at you
    I was just to embarrassed
    to have anything to say
    ashamed that there was nothing I could do
    had you asked,
    I would have given something to you
    instead I just drove away
    sorry, that all I could do was pray. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/12/08 Prompt #12 about a homeless woman I saw a few months ago, not
    sure why I was suddenly thinking about her. I know I once wrote a similar poem about her. If I
    find it, I will compare the two, maybe post it if anyone is interested.

  93. Barbara Tzetzo Gosch

    Asking for forgiveness

    Forgive me for putting you on a back burner all these years. For all the tomorrows—I put you on hold. And the numerous times I said, “One of these days…” but never did take the time to get back to you. Always, you waited but I ignored you. While I often confessed that you were the most important thing in my life—still I found others to replace you. My plate was just too full.

    I want you to realize that I never meant to cause you pain or suffering. Throughout much of my life… you and only you have been my source of inspiration, my companion. Can you forgive me?

    Answer written back on April 12, 2008
    All’s forgiven as long as you realize what you’ve written. You had to find out for yourself. I tried but it was no use.

    As ever,
    The Voice within

  94. Lyn Sedwick

    Why I’m late

    I left in plenty of time but
    There was a train,
    I had a flat tire,
    My mom/sister/doctor called,
    I was detoured,
    I forgot my purse,
    There was an accident,
    The dog ate my homework,
    (Sorry, wrong excuse list),
    I would have called but
    My cell phone battery
    Was dead…
    Oh heck, I just didn’t leave
    Early enough. I’m sorry.

    Lyn Sedwick

  95. Rodney C. Walmer

    I want to thank everyone for your kind words and encouragement. I am not one to easily share my work. As I have posted before, I have been writing for over 34 years, but for myself not others. When I saw this challenge, I felt it was something I could not pass up. Had no idea, I would have so much to contribute. It is very touching and moving to find so many who enjoy my writing. I never ever in my wildest dreams thought that anyone would enjoy my stuff. Though, I have won contests in the past on Poetrytoday.com, that was for poems co-written with another, and I have always attributed the wins to her talent certainly not mine.


  96. Rodney C. Walmer

    Thank you Sally, I also found your poem about your father very moving as well. I am sorry for your loss.

    On a side note, my mothers name is also Sally.


  97. Phyllis Elswick

    I’m sorry…

    I’m sorry for the things I said
    When you came home upset
    I’m sorry for not listening
    To all the things you said
    I’m sorry, I was not there for you
    When you needed me the most
    I’m sorry for the criticism
    I gave instead of love.
    I’m sorry you grew up
    Before my very eyes.
    But I’m thankful we are friends
    For the rest of our lives.

  98. Linda

    Thank you all for sharing your poems these past twelve days. I am amazed and honored by your talent and honesty and the opening of your hearts. And thank you Robert for this opportunity and the nudge to pop a daily Vitamin P.

    This prompt was difficult for me, a very personal poem about my mother and her choices. Peace, Linda



    Sepia stains this house –
    and you – with time passed,
    time mourned, choices made

    or not. Of fingers
    jaundiced and shrunken,
    swirling amber nectar,

    ice clacking to moments
    metered by the hissing
    thump, thump, thump of air

    coursing via canal,
    to make red what’s blue
    in you, now yellowed,

    smoky-scented, canyon-
    carved, starving for space
    enough to utter

    “I’m sorry.” But the tip
    just flares, then fades. You
    gasp, and all goes black.

  99. LBC

    Sorry For A Reason

    I’m sorry
    I nagged you about your weight,
    but it’s only because I care.
    Diabetes, heart attack, stroke,
    these possibilities give me a scare.
    It’s not about killer abs,
    or a sexy physique,
    it’s the fact that it’s not healthy
    that causes me to speak.
    So if you expect brownies,
    or a slice of apple pie,
    You’ll find the cupboard empty;
    So very sorry am I.


  100. joe

    The Apology

    It’s a promise I made at the start,
    To tell you the truth.
    The one thing you asked of me, always
    To tell you the truth.

    How do you say “it’s no longer there”?
    And deep down inside all you feel is “care”.
    It took all I could do to just say it,
    To tell you the truth.

    Bitter’s the pill one swallows
    To deal with pain.
    Sorry’s a word that rings hollow
    when nothing remains.

    Feelings can’t begin to describe
    The hurt I can see in your eyes
    I couldn’t go on living a lie
    To tell you the truth.

  101. Don Swearingen

    "We know she’s gone," my lawyer droned.
    "We know they found the silk of her dress
    In your back yard. We know you phoned
    From your house, which was in a mess
    When they got there, and you said
    That you had strangled her but she was gone
    And there’s no body to say she’s dead,
    But there is your confession. Upon
    My word of honor sir, that’s damning stuff."
    "I know. I remember holding her and shaking her
    And yelling I needed her help for a new rhyme
    And then she laughed and I thought of making her
    Help me. But by that time
    She had gone, like a wisp of smoke."
    "She’d gone?" my lawyer said. "The muse always leaves when you choke!"

  102. Carla Cherry

    For Uncle Reggie

    My shelf boasts a navy blue binder
    with your poems,
    (the beautiful ones)
    along with your photograph–
    the dimple I envied is quite prominent.

    My secret shame
    is that when I last heard your voice
    that unfamiliar rasp
    repelled my bit of usual small talk
    about school

    To ask how you were
    would have been cruel

    I should have just said
    I love you

    I was too busy praying
    that Mom would take the back the phone
    and rescue me
    from our interminable silence.

  103. Kimberlee Thompson


    She’s still there, whether
    I talk to her or not.
    Whether I pick up the phone
    and try to cross the bridge
    that’s been bombed.
    It wasn’t us—
    we both agree—
    but still, the bridge is gone
    and I haven’t rebuilt it
    with telephone wire.

  104. A.C. Leming

    MJ Dills,

    i think if you attempt to post and end up with your piece still in the comments sections, it’s because someone else just beat you to posting a comment. try again…

    ac leming

    as just happened to me for the billionth time

  105. satia

    I’m Sorry
    (inspired by OJT)

    After years of silence,
    absence, solitude,
    filled with missing you,
    I don’t know how to say
    everything I should have said
    and because two words are too small
    to bridge the distance I created
    I remain silent
    hoping my silence will say
    everything or at least fill
    two words with meaning.

  106. Marcus Smith

    "I’m sorry but we will die…"

    looking at the ceiling from the hallway
    there’s a cross formed by the shadow of the window frame,
    a cross nonetheless ,
    and I can feel the religion.
    the trees growing through the window
    the chain from the chandelier,
    a Roman chain.
    the trees sway with the wind
    the wind howls and the night is as dark
    as the outer reaches of space but not as silent
    for the wind whistles across the lake,
    picks up speed and commits suicide
    against the side of the house.
    maybe the swaying of trees is a dance to mock us,
    they know that for them the world is timeless
    for us it’s marked,
    marked by the seconds, the minutes, the hours until time runs out.
    a Darwinian battle that can only be won by that with roots,
    long, ancient roots.

  107. Alfred J Bruey

    Apology (#12)

    I apologize because
    this poem is so short
    because the 12th day
    is almost over
    and a poem is due
    and I’m very tired from
    a busy day and there is
    a long day ahead of me
    tomorrow and it will be
    the 13th day and another
    prompt will be waiting
    for me.

  108. Sally DiUlus

    April 12, 2008

    I am sorry
    I can’t understand
    all of you, at times
    I’m sorry
    it seems
    as though you cannot
    understand me either.

    I miss Dad.
    I think he understood me.
    At least he said, "I forgive you for being you. For standing up for what you believe in."
    But, he is in the wind.
    He is in the sea.
    He is in the stars.
    He is in the storm.
    He is with me.
    He is dead.

  109. lynn rose

    Sorry no more….
    because you’re having a bad day.
    I told you what I was thinking.
    I am not smart enough for you to love.
    I am not younger or prettier.
    that you spilled your coffee and forgot
    your papers at home.
    your ex is being her lovely self again.
    that work can’t stay at work.
    that you have more bullshit to do today.
    that I don’t come first for once.
    I am always saying I’m sorry that you day isn’t
    going just right. Its just my way of comfronting
    and showing that I care.
    But I am sorry no more because
    you told not to be, in less I have run you over
    with a car (sometimes that’s a thought). So, I am
    sorry no more, but really I am.

  110. M J Dills

    I should have said I’m sorry.
    That would have been the right thing to do,
    Tell you it was all my falut
    What happened…
    But I wasn’t sorry then
    And now?
    If I saw you
    Would I leap headlong into apologies?
    Would I drop on a knee and beg?
    For your mercy…
    Your forgiveness…
    But it’s too late
    Isn’t it?
    To say anything.
    Least of all
    I’m sorry.

  111. M J Dills

    There is some very lovely stuff here. I’ve tried to post but perhaps am going about it wrong? I wish I had found this site before this lazy Saturday but am glad to know it now. Any hints on posting would be appreciated. Thanks for all the sharing.

  112. Tonya Root

    I was so sorry that I said it
    before it even escaped my mouth.
    But I’d already formed the words that
    launched a volley straight through to your heart.
    You would think that one day I would learn
    but my tongue is a violent beast
    that refuses to listen to me.
    And my heart is a tangled jungle
    whose wilds I’ve not yet fully explored.
    All I can do now is apologize
    but I know that the damage is done.
    I have lived all my life with this curse
    of always having too much to say.

  113. Dee IKJ

    I’m Sorry 4-12-08

    Spring is late and more snow is falling
    I complain and gripe at winters stalling
    I’m sorry

    It is worse in other places with flooding
    Nevertheless, I complain because the trees aren’t budding
    I’m sorry

    The wind blows your house away
    Nevertheless, I complain because the sky is gray.
    I’m sorry

    Such a fool am I, to whine and moan,
    So please let me atone
    I’m Sorry

  114. John H Maloney

    This one was very difficult for me and a lot more personal than I’m usually comfortable with, but here it is

    An open letter to my late father

    For all of the misunderstandings
    and missteps along the way.
    For all of the disagreements
    turned into an angry fray.
    For all of the lost perspective
    and the lack of empathy.
    For all of the possibilities
    that just never came to be.
    For the part I played in all of these
    that I didn’t realize.
    For all of this and more
    I now humbly apologize.

  115. Rodney C. Walmer

    And now for a laugh, though this really did happen, just now as a matter of fact. Most men can probably relate. Truth is, had it been the other way around, my wife would have gotten it immediately. Myself on the other hand, well very inconsiderate to say the least.


    I’m sorry for not getting your Tylenol
    I know your head hurts
    and there’s nothing worse
    I should have answered your call
    I heard you yell and curse
    I heard you asked
    over and over again
    while I just sat telling you when
    and then, I just went back to my cooking
    while you were patiently looking
    for that relief from your pain
    so, I say once again
    I am sorry for my fall
    and most of all,
    I am sorry for not getting your Tyenol. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/12/08 Prompt #12 I was just going about my business while my poor wife
    waited for Tyenol. Very inconsiderate of me, I know.

  116. Barbara Ehrentreu

    I’m Sorry

    that I can’t satisfy your every need
    refuse to fawn over you
    watch your TV programs instead
    of composing poetry
    for jobs that bring satisfaction
    but no money and slogging
    through those with money
    engulfing my soul until my
    brain little more than cornflakes
    rebelled and needed sustenance

    for the two humans we brought
    into this world who refuse to
    conform to the lives of your friends
    for the spirit igniting my life
    that spurs me to keep writing
    channeling words through my
    fingers unbidden and unstoppable

    for staying who I am regardless of
    the roadblocks put in my path
    for staying with you for 42 years
    and for remembering the arrogant
    pugnacious man who opened my
    life and filled the vacuum no one
    else will ever fill.

  117. Cheryl Wray

    I could apologize for not
    washing any clothes,
    cleaning the baseboards,
    cooking a three-course meal,
    vacuuming in three weeks.

    But, I did
    blow bubbles,
    have a heart-to-heart,
    sing in the car,
    and play catch.

    So I don’t think I will.

  118. Jeanette J. McAdoo


    Before you passed away I didn’t say I love you
    I didn’t get to take you away for the weekend
    I didn’t get to cook your favorite dinner
    To make the holidays special
    Or share a bottle of champaigne
    Have a BBQ in the yard
    To plan a special birthday
    A dinner party with your brother
    We didn’t get to buy our dream house
    For all this I’m sorry but I love you

  119. Linda Hofke

    Letter of Apology

    Dear John (or rather Robert),
    I readily confess
    That I partake of your challenge
    But fail to pass the test.
    I could blame it on my two jobs
    Or my need for family time,
    I could say my dog ate my homework.
    Would that excuse work online?
    I could plead I missed three days
    ‘Cause I was subject to the flu,
    I could argue I’m not a poet,
    I’m just trying something new.
    I could say that I am sorry,
    I could post it on my shelf,
    For it’s not you I have let down…
    I apologize to myself.

    Okay, now the cat is out of the bag. I’m a rookie. But I am having lots of fun. Great idea, RObert.

  120. A.C. Leming

    I’m sorry I went back into the bar
    after chatting over the bed of my
    truck for 20 minutes. We went back
    in and drank a bit more, then ended
    up back at my place…

    He never told me about you — the
    current wife, just spoke about
    the bitch ex-wife, assuming I knew
    about you. When I came onto the
    scene, after you left,

    after you were too pregnant to
    train any longer. If I had known
    about you, it would never have
    happened, I never would have
    been so sick at heart

    at what I’d inadvertently done,
    all unknowing. I would never
    have impulsively left town to
    visit my alma mater, my ex-room
    mate and his new digs

    and I would have never met the
    man who would become my husband
    that second time. I wouldn’t
    have been dive bombed by that
    wasp or gone to the

    emergency room and been given
    prescription Benedryl, which
    loosened my tongue enough to
    disarm his sense of humor. So
    I’m sorry you

    still don’t know. I’m sorry about
    the whole screwed up situation. I’m
    sorry it happened with your husband.
    But I’m not sorry it ended up
    with mine.

  121. Gene McParland from Long Island

    Sins of Loving

    There is no sin in loving too much.
    There may be one for loving too long.
    For some things have a life that ends.
    Sometimes you just can’t trust your heart.

    Like the seasons,
    there comes a time of change.
    Holding unto the last dead leaves of summer,
    does not hold back winter’s
    coldness and death.

    Like the shoreline at low tide,
    the love of spring will return,
    as surely as the incoming tide,
    germinating the seeds
    that lay protected in winter’s soil.

    So do not hold unto the past,
    that which has died,
    be thankful for lessons learned.
    All love fertilizes
    the fruits of our lives.

    That which appears dead
    will in its own time
    be reborn of sturdier stock;
    roots much deeper.
    Love reborn is much like that.

    Cycles end and cycles begin.
    Love has no cycles,
    It always exists in the Present.
    Commit no sin to yourself.
    Let go of the dead.
    Love that which is living.
    There is never a need to apologize
    for loving; it is no sin.

    Gene McParland
    North Babylon

  122. Lorraine Hart

    to say i’m sorry

    if you were a brit little girl
    in colonized southeast asia
    you’d have learned to say
    "i’m sorry…"

    not to be confused with polite
    military occupation, "I’m sorry…
    pardon me…just coming to take
    the country…save you from yourselves…
    won’t be a jiffy, eh what!"
    not that kind of sorry

    not to be confused with the
    endless self-flogging for accident
    of birth, "I’m sorry I got in
    and you didn’t."
    not that kind of sorry

    it’s a small and good taste in my mouth
    a seed to plant with hopes for a jungle
    home i knew and loved as a child

  123. Rodney C. Walmer

    Sorry posted the wrong version, here is the correct version.

     Sorry, not always

    When I think of all of the things I am sorry about
    I am reconsidering mistakes,
    I could not have lived without
    sometimes one misstep is all it takes
    for an opportunity, of which we might learn
    or the right someone, to which we might turn
    Sometimes the choice one makes
    may be the difference in the road one’s life takes. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/12/08 Sorry prompt. #12

  124. Rodney C. Walmer

    Sorry, not always

    When I think of all of the things I am sorry about
    I am reconsidering mistakes,
    I could not have lived without
    sometimes one misstep is all it takes
    for an opportunity, of which we might learn
    or the right someone, to which we might turn. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/12/08 Sorry prompt. #12

  125. Rodney C. Walmer

    Thank you Lain, I have to admit, I just looked at the prompt for the day, and just started writing. I did not plan it or anything. It just came out that way. Funnily, it’s harder to go back and read then it was to write. I am certain that makes no sense, but it’s true.

    On a different note, you have written some powerful stuff there. I am certain that some of it, is also very difficult for you to write. I just want to thank you for the great poems you have given us.

    Halfmoon, your poem about your brother is very moving. I am sure that many have been in a similar situation. I lost a very close friend to AID’s about 16 years ago. It is a very painful way to lose someone. For me the worst part was watching his little girl crying "Daddy when are you coming back to us." over and over again. He like many back in the the 70’s lived a duel life to cover up his sexuality. One married, and one gay. His wife was also gay, they had an "understanding" as he put it, and they had a child together.


  126. Sara McNulty

    I’m sorry for the sadness and the
    Tears in your eyes when I
    Told you we were moving away

    From New York to Portland, Oregon
    Where I will open wide my arms of
    Welcome to you and pray you will visit

    And stay as long as you like,
    My two dearest friends, you who
    Grew alongside me for 36 years

    From the era of wine, smoke, and
    Concerts to a mellower age in which
    I need to forge a new life, with the

    Steel of dreams I never knew I had.
    You who saw me through illnesses,
    Breakups, family deaths, and thwarted

    Suicide attempts. To you who cried and
    Nurtured me back to the living and
    Proved there was more, my heart is torn.

  127. Lori

    Wow, these poems today break your heart. I am sitting with tears in my eyes, which I guess means they are succesful at producing the emotion they are attempting to invoke.
    What came out of me today wasn’t an apology from me, but a desire to hear one from someone I doubt I ever will.

    Still Waiting

    I’m still waiting for an apology.
    I’m still waiting for some evidence
    that you feel even slightly remorseful
    for turning my world upside down,
    for creating the nightmare that took
    years to heal from and still sometimes
    aches in the middle of the night or when
    someone or something reminds me of you.
    I’m still waiting for that phone call or
    that letter or even a rumor that somewhere
    deep inside you there is some sorrow
    for broken trusts, and broken friendships,
    and broken families. Still waiting.
    I finally was able to "let go and let God"
    a few years ago and the bitterness is gone.
    Mostly. But the sorrow is still there.
    Healed and ready to forgive but
    still waiting. Still hoping for true repentance,
    true forgiveness, and true healing.

  128. Anahbird

    Dear Muse

    Dear Muse
    I am sorry
    For leaving you
    Upon the shelf
    For allowing
    My shadows
    And worries
    And fears
    To come between
    I release you
    From this glass case
    Of dust and cobwebs
    Be free
    To entertain me
    With your bardic tales
    Once again.

  129. Deb Hill

    April,12 Day 12

    I’m Sorry Could Mean

    I’m sorry could mean: Showing sympathy for a person’s initial pain –
    Such as . . . Opening your home, the day their Momma blew away like a flame.

    I’m sorry could mean: To feel regret for something that never stayed contained –
    Such as . . . When the children age out of care, their need for you to explain.

    I’m sorry could mean: A lack of worth but not completely deranged –
    Such as. . . Being the person who loves to complain never exercising a forum to change.

  130. Ginger G

    I Am Sorry
    by Ging

    I am sorry that I ever met you
    That I let you into my life
    I’m sorry for every moment
    I even considered becoming your wife

    I am sorry that I liked you
    Sorry you were too weak to see
    That I needed a real man
    And a sucker I would not be

    I am sorry that I loved you
    You broke my heart in two
    I’m glad that you’ve left me
    That young girl deserves you

    I am sorry I didn’t get you back
    For all you did to me
    But there’s one thing I’m not sorry for
    I’m not sorry to be free

  131. Michelle H.

    I Apologize
    I see you creeping along the wall
    I watch you with my eyes
    I get up off the couch and swat you like a fly.
    I Apologize
    You startle me as I enter the room
    And you scurry away on tens or perhaps thousands of legs
    But the fear makes me dance and then you will scurry no more.
    I Apologize
    I here you coming before I see you and
    The sound makes me fill with dread
    One sting and I could be dead.
    I Apologize
    To all you insects large and small
    I know you have a purpose to fulfill
    So perhaps you should hide when I come near.
    I Apologize
    To all you insects my advice to you
    Come upon my husband, he will scoop you up
    And set you free but please just let me be.
    I Apologize
    I tried to change my ways when my girls were small
    I showed no fear and set some free but then
    I was just bursting to be me.
    I Apologize
    That’s it I’m done, there is no more to be said
    For tomorrow we go back to war and
    I will apologize no more.

    April 12, 2008
    © Michelle H.

  132. Marcos Cabrera

    Forgive Me

    Forgive me, my love, if I went away.
    Our living was turning into a maze
    the air was thick and the days were longer,
    I felt like I was back in a corner
    like a wild animal in a dark cave.
    Forgive me please, but there was not a place
    for me to have and appreciate your love,
    I didn’t know if I was friend or foe
    our days then were covered with a dense haze.

    Forgive me if I did not called you back
    because my world was turning sad and black.

    Forgive me if I caused you so much ache
    and for chattering our promise for life,
    whatever I thought I know it wasn’t wise
    and that now the results I need to face.
    Forgive me anyway, and let our vale
    to be again the most beautiful bliss,
    to see the roses and the daffodils
    covering our lives with the sweetest glaze.
    Forgive me for staying so far away.

  133. Margaret Fieland

    A Clear Cry for Household Help

    You say the house is in a mess
    because I did not clean it,
    the bed unmade, the floor all wet.
    How could I not have seen it?

    You called me up at work to say
    I have to come come early,
    you just can’t stand it anymore.
    You really sounded surly.

    You sounded even more upset
    than when I left this morning,
    but I’ll bring you a nice bouquet,
    complaints will die aborning.

    At least that what I hope right now
    since it’s well past six thirty.
    I wonder when I do get home,
    will I still find things dirty?

    I know you’ve got a lot to do
    at home with just an baby,
    a two year old, a girl of four.
    Sometimes I thnk that maybe

    It’s time to get someone to come
    and help us with the housework,
    and maybe with some cleaning help
    I won’t feel like a big jerk.

  134. Bill Kirk

    Mea Culpa, Let Me Count The Ways
    (To the tune of “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover”)
    By Bill Kirk

    She said, I’m leaving you
    Tomorrow at first light.
    So, we just have this time
    Together one last night.
    But there’s one thing I really
    Feel that you should say—
    Mea Culpa. Mea Culpa.
    You heard me right, just say ‘I’m sorry.’

    How did we ever finally
    Get to where we are?
    On our journey, have we
    Really come this far?
    There is so much of us that
    We each could have known—
    Won’t you even say, ‘I’m sorry?”
    I’ll count the ways that you say ‘Sorry.’

    Oops. There went some gas, Lass.
    I slipped out some air, Claire?
    I guess that was me, Lee!
    There’s no need to wheeze.
    A shot past the Moons, June.
    I just cut some cheese, Louise.
    It got through the crease, Reese.
    It had to be free….

    It seems to me we’ve had so
    Little time to spare.
    We could have used it better—
    Found more things to share.
    With so much bad air I just
    Gotta get away.
    But first, I want to hear ‘I’m sorry.”
    I’ll count the ways that you say ‘Sorry.’

    Oops. There went some gas, Lass.
    I slipped out some air, Claire?
    I guess that was me, Lee!
    There’s no need to wheeze.
    A shot past the Moons, June.
    I just cut some cheese, Louise.
    It got through the crease, Reese.
    It had to be free….

  135. Kimberly K

    I’m sorry

    many days
    but not today
    today the sun shines
    the dog is washed
    the party last night was great
    it’s Saturday
    what’s to be sorry about?

    better to have this prompt on
    Monday or Friday

    on Monday I can be sorry
    that the weekend is over
    that the traffic is back
    that I did not do all the errands
    that I did not write those letters

    or Friday
    I can be sorry
    that my desk is still a mess
    that the deadline is still looming
    that I have half of my TO DO list
    to carry forward to Monday
    so that I can be sorry about

    but today
    the dishes are done
    the poem is written
    time for a good book
    it’s Saturday.

  136. Teri Coyne

    Sweet Nothing

    I’m sorry you feel that way
    was what you said
    then later claimed that
    as a true apology

    As you slept
    I wrote the note
    and taped it to the
    bathroom mirror

    Sorry I didn’t wake you
    to say good-bye

  137. Diane

    I’m Sorry

    I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner.
    When I was young I didn’t have a dad,
    so I thought you didn’t love me
    or maybe you weren’t there;
    Otherwise things would surely be different.
    In spite of all your love, I was always unhappy.
    In addition to all your other gifts
    you would send special treasures
    to tell me you loved me.
    A grandfather who was dad to me;
    his loss seemed much too soon.
    A cat to keep me company.
    A handmade doll I prayed for
    became mine in spite of all the odds against it;
    that day I began to think you might be real after all.
    Then my faith was swept away when we moved.
    A teacher said I wasn’t good enough to represent my class;
    though they had chosen me.
    My acceptance in a new place was short lived.
    Most of my social life ended that day.
    In my isolation I decided you didn’t care.
    So I threw away the most precious treasures you had given me.
    One by one I dropped them–hoping to be free.
    When I tried to drop the treasure of life
    you kept calling to me.
    You spoke so clearly.
    It was then I knew I couldn’t believe without your help.
    "If you are there, you’ve got to show me."
    And you gave me another chance to choose.
    Then you picked up all my treasures;
    cleaned off the mud I’d dropped them in,
    and gave them back to me one by one.
    Thank you.
    I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner.

  138. Kateri Woody

    "An Example of Why Kateri Woody Doesn’t Do Rhymes"

    I don’t know how to say this,
    the words just come out wrong,
    I think I can try to do this
    without the aid of a corny song.

    I’m sorry that you hate me,
    for killing your little boy;
    he was an annoying person really,
    just a tawdry decoy.

    Although I am most apologetic,
    over the fact that he’s still alive;
    the bastard of a mimic
    who stole my first codename from the archives.

    I’m sorry for shooting that girl,
    the one with the long red hair,
    I didn’t know she was Batgirl
    until after I put her in a wheelchair.

    But now I know that she’s much more useful,
    without her legs than with,
    as she sits behind her computer, brutal
    with all of the information that she gives.

    Most of all I’m sorry for the way
    that you sneer at my proximity.
    I wish that my visage made you gay –
    but no, I don’t want this to get smutty.

    I just wish for you to understand
    the way you have altered my life,
    I guess my feelings for you are just too bland
    I hope my next attempt to kill, will bring more than strife.

    "To Jason Todd, Love Joker"

    I’m sorry that I pistol whipped you,
    sorry that I crushed eighty percent of the bones
    in your pathetic, weak body.
    I’m sorry that my crowbar slipped,
    slick with your blood,
    down harder against your face
    then it did against your back, gut, and legs.
    I’m sorry that your mother hated you,
    abhorred you enough to sell you out
    to the likes of me.
    Sorry too that I had to blow her up,
    in order to make you disappear.
    But most of all,
    I’m sorry that you’re still fucking alive.

    (Might write more later, these two were the first to come to mind. I apologize for how bad they are.)

  139. Vanessa O'Dwyer

    On Apologies

    They said:
    I’m sorry for your loss.
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – it was his time to go.

    They said:
    I’m sorry but I cannot help you.
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – I can help myself

    They said:
    I’m sorry but you cannot sit here.
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – I’ll go sit somewhere better.

    They said:
    I’m sorry we don’t have your size.
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – I can make it fit.

    They said:
    I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – There’s something I can do.

    They said:
    I’m sorry but the computer here says…
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – Computers are not human.

    They said:
    I’m sorry, not a winner – try again later!
    I said:
    Don’t apologize – I won just by playing.

  140. Elizabeth Keggi


    Snow falls,
    cresting budding trees
    and bluebells
    now drooped.
    I never spoke
    at the service,
    echoing others’
    words: He was
    like a brother
    to me.
    Will I miss
    his birthday yet
    again? Or shall I
    let the snow
    speak for me?
    Spring hesitates,
    and your garden
    lies mute. I knock
    upon the gate
    in vain.
    Maybe this summer
    will be the one
    his endless lilies
    now newly reborn
    will dust my hands
    once more with
    their brilliant

    Elizabeth K. Keggi
    April 12, 2008

  141. Darla Smith

    I Apologize

    I apologize for my actions,
    which I know can be cruel.
    I shouldn’t have treated you,
    in such a terrible way.

    I apologize for my words,
    I know they hurt you bad.
    If there was only some way,
    for me to take them back.

  142. Christa R. Shelton


    I’m sorry that I can’t give you the time
    you deserve today
    I can’t allow you to invade my mind
    and play around aimlessly until you
    decide to settle down
    I can’t take the time to strum
    against the keyboard playfully
    until you all start to form a line
    for me to comprehend your true meaning
    I’m sorry that today I have to be quick
    and force you to cooperate
    on my schedule
    I promise though next time
    I will open up the playground
    of my mind earlier in the day
    so that I won’t be rushing to
    make you come together
    and record you in haste
    I will say sorry again now
    because I’m sure the promise
    I just made
    will be broken again on another
    rushed Saturday afternoon
    so, I’m sorry.

  143. Iain D. Kemp

    Sorry (i)

    Oh god! I’m sorry…
    I was miles away
    I’ve been sitting, staring at a wall
    For over an hour

    That’s that twice this week,
    He should be sorry!
    Not me, I’m doing my best but
    I’m just, simply

    The “Place” poem
    Was hard enough
    But now I’m lost again, drifting
    Unable to compose
    A thing

    So I apologise again
    I can’t even write
    An apology for an apologetic
    Poem or verse
    I’m sorry!


    Sorry (ii)

    I’m sorry!
    Its so easy
    So easy to say
    So easy not to mean
    We say it all the time

    Apologies for
    Things we don’t
    Mean or just don’t
    Care about. Well not really
    Its just being polite. Nice, friendly.

    So Sorry
    Sorry I’m late
    Sorry for your loss
    Sorry, it’s my fault (not!)
    Sorry I couldn’t make it (again!)

    Let’s get
    Something straight, okay?
    Your dog smelled bad
    I didn’t know your grandma
    And my time is my own!

    Just had
    To get that
    Off my chest, sorry
    I’m kind of cranky today
    Keep saying sorry over and over.

    And when I am really sorry, I can never find the words…


    Rod, Just have to say, beautiful piece that can’t have been easy to write.

  144. Omavi Ndoto


    I know
    I have not been the best of friends
    Or the best of holding hands
    Or the best of anything
    That you required in your life

    I know
    That sometimes I can be harsh
    And many times I can be crass
    And judgmentally
    A bastard and maybe more

    I know
    Many times I have made you cry
    And then turned my back
    And closed my eyes
    Ignored your plights
    Because I see something in you
    That maybe you are not ready to scry

    My friend
    I hope you understand that my heart is yours
    And my hands only desire to help you mold
    That beautiful norm
    And my mouth only wishes to promote
    And help you persevere
    Though sometimes I seem like I’m only
    Telling you of all the mistakes you have done

    My friend
    I truly don’t want to see you cry
    It tears me up inside
    And with each single tear from your eyes
    A part of me dies

    So to you my friend
    I apologize, on bended knees and with teary eyes
    My ways and my manners
    May seem to only make our bond strain and we fight, oh we fight
    But I only do what I do to assure that my best friend
    Finds that perfect life

  145. Zebulon Huset

    Inconsiderate Acts

    I’m sorry snail, I didn’t see you sliding across the sidewalk like a wad of butter on a slowly warming skillet. I’m sorry mailbox lock, for missing with my key and scratching your chrome. It’s such a small key. I’m sorry mail key, for calling you small. You aren’t small, you’re compact. That makes you more efficient. I’m sorry house key, I understand the mailbox lock’s smaller than door lock, and that he’d break off his teeth trying to muster the strength to move that heavy, oh, right, heavy and stiff deadbolt. (Yes, mail-key, I know that he’s full of himself, I’m sorry for placating him, but if he decides to run off I have to call a locksmith and they don’t accept apologize. The last one I called wouldn’t even take a check.) So, so sorry, morning, for stepping on your sidewalks, I’ll try to be more considerate in the future.

  146. Khara House

    :maybe i’m sorry:

    …for finding it first…
    …for wanting it more…
    …for doing it better…
    …for winning it all…
    …for keeping it longer…
    …for fighting harder…
    …for dotting the i’s…
    …for minding the wind…
    …for daring to dream…

    …for sailing the breeze…
    …for chasing the vision…
    …for going beyond…
    …for jumping higher…
    …for soaring farther…
    …for losing less…
    …for passing the time…
    …for lingering gazes…
    …for everything always…

    I think this is the first poem I’ve written as an emotional response to a current situation. I’m trying to make a big decision about my future, and while I thought my parents were behind me 100% now I’m not too sure. I can’t apologize for dreaming big and daring to keep dreaming … but maybe I’m sorry they can’t understand.

  147. Judy Roney

    I’m sorry
    always sorry for something
    even when I’m not thinking
    I can hear the words strumming
    through me, “I’m sorry”.
    I’m sorry that I didn’t know
    didn’t help you, didn’t see.
    I’m your mother, I should have
    known you were distraught, even
    at 400 miles away, I should have
    known. I’m so sorry, Brian.
    I wish I could have saved you, son.
    I wish I would have known
    I should have known
    I wish I could have been a
    savior instead of this remorseful
    raw wounded bleeding cavern
    of pain screaming ”I’m sorry”
    and sometimes whispering it
    to myself over and over again.
    I’m sorry, son.

  148. Linda Brown


    You thought I did not love you well enough.
    How often your accusing eyes grew cold.
    You said I was but shallowness and fluff
    And not the kind that you could have and hold.
    I didn’t hang upon your every word.
    I didn’t always take hold of your hand.
    I didn’t say “I love you” with each breath.
    Yet what you always failed to understand –

    It would have been so easy to have joined
    The passion you gave me, each overture.
    Desire was like a fire between my loins.
    I had to hold my heart in check for sure,
    Or I’d have lost myself beneath your touch:
    I’m sorry that I loved you much too much.

  149. 98.12 The Road

    This morning (ha 1:06 PM) I am sorry for nothing at all. If you asked me yesterday, I would have apologized for simply living, for my own breathe fogging up the window of vision…but not today. Today I feel I am a justified part of the universe, not needing to apologize for anything at all.

  150. Kevin

    I’m sorry

    Was it something I said?
    Something I didn’t do
    or do or thought I did?
    Was it the way I spoke,
    the rude reaching,
    unspeakable tone I chose?
    Was it the walk I took,
    the way my feet glided
    softly across the new cut grass?
    Was it my breath,
    my face, my voice, my leer?
    Was it something I suggested,
    or maybe did not suggest?
    Something I made for you
    in art class, or crafts?
    Was it the solid way
    I stared you in the eye
    when punishment was doled?
    I’m sorry, so sorry
    for those things I did
    or didn’t do. Those things
    I didn’t choose, or did.
    The voice I carried
    and used as weapon,
    the feet that walked me
    to my places travelled
    but never seen.
    So sorry to have
    made myself of me.

  151. Cara Alson


    I atone…
    I admit…
    I regret…
    I repent…
    I confess…
    I am sorry…
    I am guilty…
    I apologize…
    I didn’t mean…
    I am ashamed…

    …it’s a beginning.
    Are you listening?
    Never mind. I need
    to say it

    even if you don’t need to hear it.

  152. ck

    For Taking

    Drowning in red wine,
    A carafe of deep red bliss.
    I’m sorry for taking —
    The sex, the headiness, the desire —
    And being unable to give.

  153. ann malaspina

    The Game of Sorry

    The Sorry game is covered in dust.
    No one takes it out to play.
    The board fell apart;
    The pieces are lost.
    It’s boring, the teenagers say.

    Once Candyland was for rainy days.
    Risk was for Saturday night.
    Now they turn on their Ipod,
    And check on their MySpace,
    No card games or checkers in sight.

  154. patti williams


    I guess it hurt your feelings
    When I said no more.

    You don’t know what you did
    And you’re mad I said stay away.

    You wrote to me you have no clue
    Why I said I’ve been hurt.

    I’m sorry
    I finally said enough.

    But really,
    I’m saying enough.

  155. halfmoon_mollie

    for my brother Mark

    because at the last when
    you were so ill
    I could not be around you
    you wore the face but
    inside you were not my brother
    I’m sorry that you
    thought I didn’t
    love you anymore

    for the hell
    you went through
    and the times
    you called me
    in the middle of the night
    not knowing it was
    the middle of the night

    I’m sorry

    I did love you
    I do love you
    and if you ever
    thought different

    I’m sorry
    I miss you
    I’m sorry for
    that, too

    (my brother Mark died 15 years ago. He was a hemophiliac and contracted HIV. His long, slow death was worse than any hell ever thought of, and I’ve always been ashamed that when it came down to it, I wasn’t there for him)

  156. Rodney C. Walmer

    We are is who we are

    How can I apologize
    for being who I am
    I certainly realize
    I do things you don’t understand
    some of which you despise
    often, when you want the upper hand

    Your certainly used to being in control
    taking on untold responsibility
    helps to make you whole
    I just wish that you could see
    how much your input
    has meant to me

    Are you entitled to an apology
    well, that’s certainly hard to say
    no one can sincerely apologize
    for being a certain way
    when if those traits they choose to hide
    animosity is all they will feel inside

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/12/08 Poetry Prompt #12 this was written for my mother, who never
    understood who I needed to be, nor whom I became. I rarely write for my mother, as we don’t
    have any relationship at all. Actually have not seen each other in over 28 years. Probably never
    will again. So, enjoy the rarity that is a poem for my mother.

  157. Connie

    Dear Mom (in-law),

    I was eighteen when I first met your son.
    Shy—so very shy—I didn’t like talking
    To his large family all at once,
    But I felt comfortable around you.
    You were shy like me when you were young.
    We’d make things in the kitchen
    And you’d tell me about the trinkets
    Hiding in the cupboards.
    You showed me a china cake server.
    “It’s very old,” you said.
    I determined I would not break it.
    And then I needed something
    At the back of the cupboard.
    I placed the server carefully on the counter.
    I almost had the whatever-it-was,
    I knocked over a salt shaker.
    It fell on the server and broke it.
    Sorry Mom. But after all these years,
    At least your son and I are still together.

  158. maeve63

    Pressure under foot
    it’s all wrong
    like standing on a rope.
    Howling and hissing
    frightened eyes dart at me
    fleeing instinct she races across the room
    turns back to me with my call.
    Hearing the voice of love
    the reassurance of “I’m sorry”
    her tail recovers and hugs and cuddles return.

  159. Salvatore Buttaci


    Not another word.
    I’ve said it all.
    You hear it in my upturned
    hands, in the blandness
    of my blank-page face,
    the way my cane–
    a wooden question mark–
    taps like Homer’s did
    in search of
    epic resolutions.

    “I’ve said it all.
    You see it in the hesitation
    of my lips, in my
    confessions bumbling
    through the sliding latticed door,
    in the babble of vowels
    sentenced with consonants
    to dark lonely towers.
    What’s left to say?
    to see? to hear? to wonder about?

    A makeshift glue to hold together
    the pieces worth saving:
    I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

    (C) 2008 Salvatore Buttaci

  160. Rox


    For taking so very long
    to find my way back
    from anger and fury;
    For punishing myself
    three darkened years
    in the dungeon of Self
    feeling so much
    that you never wanted to hear about
    and never will;
    For forgetting that love
    is both sharp joy and sharp pain
    everlasting in both;
    I’m sorry.