It was inevitable,

Such glass summons.

Would break on my bubble,

Once two now ones.

It was unfair,

Such ungrateful process.

Oh with such flair,

Was it ever going to be a success.

It was change,

Such a minor upheaval.

Isn’t it strange,

That I was wished such mal.

It was you,

Such was my own fault.

And this was true,

You tried to break a colt.

It was a feather,

On a crown made of glass.

Storm was the weather,

That you wanted to pass.

‘Sorry’

No need I guess…

…

🖤