There was something upset in the air
Perhaps a hint of lacking responsibility
Perhaps a prideful lock on the apology
Or the cawardly pretence that a tweet into the
Faceless abyss
Could suffice as an excuse for a major
**** up
And when the lungs got used to this foggy quality
Forecast said the sun was shining all along
And the failure was everyone else's fault
But if I hold on to the chain of events
It leads me to the same dumpster I remember
Crawling out of
When the night was still fresh
Accepting it, I
Neither talk to it nor pretend it smells like roses