The happiness falls like rain
Only to drip through my outstretched fingers
Turning to the inevitable, inimical, immutable mud of you.

I dredge through this monotony so often that it becomes routine
The muck which traps me so wholly feels natural
It flows like a river.

And then I remember you and I am frozen
The boulders which obstruct my path double in size
And I slip beneath your filth.