I’m sorry.

I’m sorry you only brought me a rose,

And I’m sorry you never learned how I think that flower blows,

I would have much preferred chocolates or something useful,

But you only brought me roses by the basketful.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry you never let me speak my mind,

And I’m sorry I ever thought you were a find,

Because you were never practical,

Only occasionally beneficial.

I’m sorry,

I’m sorry you thought this thing would last,

But beyond my looks you could never look past,

I am more than my body, I am a mind and heart,

And I’m sorry that in this thing we called romance, you were always the useless part.