The speaker of this poem is stuck in a loop: they apologize constantly, people tell them to stop, and they end up apologizing for the apologizing. The title already sets this up, and the last lines make it almost funny and almost sad at once, ending on a bare "Sorry."
What comes through most is a gap between head and heart. The speaker knows, "in truth," that they aren't to blame, but their mind "doesn't think so." They say they were raised to apologize for everything, which suggests the habit runs deep and feels like part of who they are, not just something they do.
The mood is quiet, weary, and a little defensive. The short, plain lines sound like someone trying to explain themselves without taking up too much space. There is also a gentle plea: the speaker isn't asking for a cure, only for understanding that bad habits don't vanish just because someone tells you to drop them.