some stay
some go
and
some no longer want to know,

everything hurts when everything hurts.

It's Sunday,
shall we pray or
shall we go outside and play,
and by we I mean of course me
because no one wants to stay,
well
can't cry over split peas
spilt milk or cold teas so
I'll get on by getting along
by myself.

It's Sunday and at the risk of
repeating myself,
some stay
that
is what makes every day
bearable,

which is like terrible but
nicer.