Mistakes arrive like footprints in the sand,
so clear at first, so loud beneath the sky,
you wish you could erase them with your hand,
or blame the wind, or simply pass them by.
But truth is brave. It doesn’t need a crown.
It doesn’t hide behind a clever grin.
It stands up straight and lays its weapons down
and says three words that let the light back in:
I’m sorry. Not as theater or show,
but as a door you open with your chest,
a way of letting better futures grow
where pride once sat like stone and would not rest.
The tide comes in and smooths what can be healed…
but only after hearts have been revealed. 🌊🖤