Mea Culpa (Sorry)

Here I am again.

It's as if those hurtful words were never said

And again I am on a hurting knee with a

Tear-streaked face and weightless body-

It seems that mistakes are

Well acquainted with me.

If, for once, the smile on their faces

Has its roots in me,

My ancient sorrow and regret would be fed to sleep,

To sleep 'til the stars reveal their ancient number

And until then, my mistakes will exist

In a wake-less slumber.