Last Words

Newish poem.

There’s a large distinction
With apology and pain.
One’s an acquiescence,
While the other is a stain.
Often we’re mistaken
On which one will set us right -
Apology at death,
Or the pain of what was right?
Why is this thing pondered?
Is it always what was said?
Or modified to fit
A fond memory of the dead?
Was it wrong to change it?
“Sorry for the trouble caused?”
It seemed a better route
Protecting young ones from loss.
Yet, years have now gone by,
In my dreams, it still asserts
The truth, the final words,
Were “It hurts, Oh God, it hurts!”
Who was I protecting?
The young ones with starry eyes?
Or was it only me
A selfishness in disguise?
I ask myself again.
With apology or pain,
Is it acquiescence,
Or was I who caused the stain?