Therapy is a drenched raincoat
In this holy war of insignificance
I have no fear of these falling leaves
Tangled webs, or mangled governance

I scale the sky with winter's hands
I wash my face with summer's pesticide
We still revel in these accouterments
While quarrels fade with the coming tide

Fraying edges will tell of my road
Crumbling youth will sing of my songs
I am vindicated in saltwater seas
As falling stars shall right all my wrongs