Trickles retreating through grooves in park seating. Petals unsettled by wide crying skies. Fleeting feet mark out wet footsteps.
Except for that pair of lovers there, Nobody’s enjoying this cold wet air, But their camera’s pulled out and their teeth are bared; Their shivering smiles to be captured and shared, With loved ones who’ll try in earnest to care.
And that is all very nice, I suppose, But it’s a life that I chose to give up for the road, That has led me here to this very wet seat, I can sit on and watch my failings repeat.