I was once sorry for the things I do, for giving my best yet failed to impress you. Those times that my heartbeats were racing fast, not because of butterfly effects but for the fear you inflicted on my inside.
The tears I’ve wept for every pain, I was even sorry for getting hurt by your complaints. Nights and days have gone cold, and I have no one to blame but accept that those are my faults.
I was even sorry for telling you the truth, sorry for how my words do not have their worth. Those times I yearn for your attention, I was even sorry for feeling that much like an orphan.
I said I was sorry for not being enough, for failing you and not becoming someone who meets your standards. I was sorry for the times I begged your love, and now I am even more sorry for I don’t have enough to give you back.
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