My Apology
I sometimes wish the past could change.  My actions were at times quite strange Some of which I much regret  And would as soon rather forget.

But from mistakes I often learn That good and bad must come in turn And I should savor every hour  And make the best of things turned sour.

Another night another day,  Problems pass, solutions stay  (Sometimes it works the other way,  My luck be it as it may,  I used think the dawn would only bring More painful memories and endless suffering.)

However, as I dreamt one night  A revelation came into sight: My past and present were the sum  Of everything I had become.  To change the past would likely be  To change my own identity.  I, therefore, needed to accept  Every past action of every step  That makes me who I really am:  Your friend, Philippe, an imperfect man.