Sorry and Sorrier

On a "lunch period" like any other
Was I sitting on a wooden table,
When I felt a sense of going to nether
For its legs were suddenly unstable.

Instinctively did I remove my belt
And swung its metal buckle to my right
where a hairy human head it instantly felt
and broke open as the blow wasn't light.

'twas a prank gone wrong for a grade two girl.
Little would she've expected to bleed.
The blood trickled down to her chin from her skull;
there wasn't a thought in my attack and speed.

I'm sorry once again, Razia Begum
though 16 years have passed since.
I recall this, smiling, not being glum,
for children's misdeeds aren't really sins.

On a day of boredom, both inside me and out,
I saw a friend swinging on the branch of a tree.
What interested me more that day without doubt
was how his sister clung to him and swung equally free.

"I too want to swing like that!" I said.
"NO!" shouted my friend, his sister, and their uncle.
But I tried. My friend fell with a thud and bled.
Maybe I should have stayed home and read Tinkle.

I'm sorry, Barath, for giving you the scar
that still resides on your forehead.
The year 2000 now seems way too far
I'm sure the hurt has also faded.

A moment of pain, a few drops of tears

along with loss of blood in some cases
due to actions unintentional yet a lot fierce
initiate maturity that will grow in phases.

Childhood scars leave an impact
that's superficial and goes not deep.
A person's morale is still in tact.
It doesn't make them incessantly weep.

I'm sorrier for some damages I did
mainly after becoming a discerning adult.
Damages not physical but through words rapid -
the kinds that distress and cause tumult.

Children's misdeeds are not really sins. 
They are but rookie mistakes.
An adult's rudeness that pricks like pins
causes deeper cuts, and bonds it breaks.

Woebegone Woman

She took to her heels and ran into the streets
When her beloved mate was nowhere to be found.
He had ditched her there.
It was truly a nightmare
When the one she loved had betrayed her.

He had said love to her,
He had made love to her.
They were happy for a brief span of time.
She didn't expect this,
She couldn't accept this.
She went in search of a place to hide.

Into a mighty huge palace that dwarfed her frame
She took refuge for the time being.
Like a thief-on-mission on a pitch dark night
She sneaked into the palace without anyone's knowledge.

Her woes multiplied when she had pangs in her womb.
She went nearly mad when she gave birth to quadruplets.
Deprived of food, she was much malnourished,
She didn't have a clue about how to raise her kids.

The granary of the palace was overflowing with food,
She proved her mettle by stealing some for her kids.
The babies made noise when they were strong enough,
The prince of the palace heard it and was greatly shocked.
He found four infants near a heap of food.
Infants so young that they hadn't opened their eyes;
Infants so cute that no one would want to hurt them.

The mom wasn't there, she was hiding due to fright.
The babies were taken and thrown away that night.
A trap was laid to catch the mom,
A trap with tomato and a chunk of cheese.

The mom was caught and let into the streets.
She once again took to her four heels
Followed by her long, pink tail.