A true apology stands alone,
No trailing "but" in weary tone.
For all that follows that small word,
Excuse or blame is what is heard.
It keeps the gaze on what you’ve done,
Not how the other faced the sun.
No shifting weight, no tempered plea,
Just ownership, full honesty.
And when there’s hurt, it seeks to mend—
A reparation fit to send.
No grand display, no heavy air,
No overdoing what is fair.
No scoreboard here of wrong and right,
No battle fought for who lost sight.
You own your part, that much is true,
Though others may not own theirs too.
No words should cage another’s pain,
Nor press them not to speak again.
“I’ve said I’m sorry, now let’s cease”—
These words do not bring healing peace.
No solace sought to ease your mind,
If in return, more hurt’s assigned.
Not every word of grief or sorrow
Deserves response, or claim to borrow.
An offering with nothing asked,
No whispered hope for hurt unclasped.
For true regret does not demand
Forgiveness placed within one’s hand.
For faults will come, as faults must do,
Yet character is shown in view—
Not in perfection’s fleeting call,
But in the owning of our fall.
Will courage rise when time is due?
Will truth and grace be found in you?
And when another dares to bend,
Will you just hear—or comprehend?
For strength is found in moments grim,
In hard truths owned, in pride gone dim.
A heart that’s wise will always know—
To give, receive, and humbly grow.