I’m sorry.

To the version of myself I’ll never get to know

The important places I have yet to go

To all the flowers that do not grow,

I’m sorry.

To the world which once rested in my palm

And those who’ve helped me remain calm

To the girls I should have asked to prom,

I’m sorry.

To the kid who was anxious, too scared to speak

The life that could’ve reached its peak

To the plans I cancelled or pushed back a week,

I’m sorry.

To all the friends who I let down

The wasted time indoors as leaves turn brown

To the days I could have spent out of town,

I’m sorry.

To all the books left unread

The weekends spent depressed, in bed

To all of the words I should have said,

I’m sorry.

To the people that needed me when I was away

The countless thoughts I’ve yet to convey

To the people I did not wish a happy birthday,

I’m sorry.

To all the good people I will never get to meet

The old stray dogs that wander the street

To the birds that couldn’t learn to tweet,

I’m sorry.

To the untouched items, collecting dust

The important topics that won’t be discussed

To the honest people never given trust,

I’m sorry.

To the countless creatures that die alone

The kid whose dad is always on the phone

To the classic films that will never be shown,

I’m sorry.

To the names and faces I can’t remember

The helpless youth in need of a defender

To the many love letters I didn’t send her,

I’m sorry. I’ll do a little better, every day.