Gaffe

A slip of tongue, a careless word,
A social stumble, softly heard—
A gaffe that paints the cheek with red,
When thoughts unwittingly are said.

We blush, we sigh, we try to hide,
Yet laughter ripples, far and wide;
In tea‑room chats or council hall,
The moment falters, then we call

“Sorry!”—a humble, earnest plea—
And learn that humility sets us free.
For every stumble, every faux pas,
Adds colour to the human cause.

So raise a cup to clumsy grace,
To the gaffe that finds its place
Within the tapestry of life—
A gentle nudge, less sharp than knife.