Sorry is what you say when your mother tells you to,
even though you are shaking with rage because your sister took your doll
So you say it
because there is no arguing with Eyebrow-Raised-Mother,
her hand held high.  

Sorry is the lid that presses down on rage,
Compressing and compressing until it is your hot, white core  

Sorry is what you say when the principal tells you to,
even though you seethe with anger, because
you’ve been accused of cheating for looking round the room.
So you say it
Because there is no arguing with stern-mouthed-Principal,
her arms closed tight  

Sorry is the lid that presses down on anger
Shoving and shoving until it is stuffed in the crevice of your heart  

Sorry is what you say when the world tells you to
Even though you are simply walking, eating, breathing, existing
So you say it
Because there is no arguing with Hurry-Legged-Strangers
Their minds closed tight  

Sorry is the lid that presses down on pain
Squeezing and squeezing until you’re numb and tame