I’m sorry that I spoke
That my fragile feelings broke
And never could I stamp them with
A word that means revoke

I’m sorry what awoke
From the fire – so much smoke
And even as I burned my hand
I felt the need to stoke

I’m sorry that I poke
And prod until you choke
Until you fear I truly am
A villain in a cloak

I’m sorry that I yoke
My will to you like oak
And cannot seem to snuff the fire
That you still provoke