I know I’ve said too many sorries
I know that you’re sick of listening to my sorries
I know that sometimes I’m immature
I know that sometimes I do get into your nerves

But I also know
Deep dark in the darkest pitch in your round tummy (sounds familiar)
You do love me
Even when I don’t really express myself too well
And when sometimes I don’t tell you what’s bugging me
You have been patient with me all the time

I like your coolness
I admire your patience
I love your advices

I promise to change
Not myself totally
But my immaturity
My jealousy
My anger

I have to be more understanding
More patient
More reasonable
More lovable

It’s not too late to change

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