Image Courtesy of Pixabay

 

With words so sweet, a honeyed tone,

My sister speaks, her contrite moan,

But hidden well, beneath her guise,

A subtle twist, veiled in her lies.

“Dear sibling,” she begins to say,

“I’m sorry for that fateful day,

When words were harsh, and tempers flared,

And your dear dog, I rudely stared.”

Her voice, so gentle, feigned remorse,

But watchful eyes, I stay on course,

For in her tone, a subtle smirk,

Her twisted scheme, a cunning quirk.

“I never meant to cause offense,

In my defense, I took no offense,

Your dog’s just fine, he’s quite alright,

A sturdy soul, despite the fight.”

A backhanded “sorry,” I perceive,

A dance of words, a web she’d weave,

She feigns remorse with utmost grace,

But in her heart, a different chase.

Her apology, a sly charade,

With hidden jabs, it’s well-played,

For though she claims to make amends,

Her true intent, she won’t amends.

So, sister dear, I see your game,

Your words may flicker like a flame,

But I’ll protect my loyal friend,

With love and care, until the end.

Your apology, though thinly veiled,

Will not leave me feeling derailed,

For in my dog’s unwavering eyes,

True love and trust, no need for lies.

Antoinette LeRoux © 2023