I'm Sorry

There is a girl that I know
Who is tender like a flower
And I find that with my power,
She wilts.

But I want to be a gardener,
And work a little harder
And not need to support my flower
With stilts.

I'm sorry for the pain
That comes down like sheets of rain
And I'm sorry that I can't make it right,
Even still.

But I want you to know it:
Every time I blow it,
I'm glad that my flower's still on my
Window sill.