A battle we’ll never win,
Brutalised rib cages and pulverised dreams,
If I roll through the punches,
So should you,
A stupid notion,
A fruitless endeavor,
Now I watch those morose droplets fall softly,
Streaking my favourite windows,
Highlighting the dizzying array of colours,
And breaking my heart,
As a once beautiful view of morning,
Disintegrates before me,
Ruined by the tangy taste of copper,
And the sourness of regret.