A sticky lump rises to your throat.

A voice deep within utters many reasons, reasons why you shouldn't stoop low.

Red like a lobster, is the colour of your ears and face.

Almost suddenly, a still voice full of serenity speaks.

It tells you to swallow your pride.

Mr. Pride is wounded, and he brawls back.

Like a wounded beast,he fights.

Deep within you, he causes mayhem.

He tells you why you don't need to apologise.

A battle strikes between the two. One must win!

Words like 'Sorry' seldom come easily.

With tears in yours eyes, cascading like waterfalls, you say sorry.

Suddenly the aura of tranquility embalms you!