Rags and things to clean the mess,
Dull pains below the belt.
That day for you was dreamy-
Filled with smiles you never felt.
Fresh blood of yours was turned foul, brown
And drops crashed from the sky.
You laid there with a crooked grin,
But I won't ask you why.
So given chance, would you die
To save your little soul? -
Take back that day in creaking clouds
To end this 'maybe' role?
This game you play won't crown to you-
A win, but common-sense,
Can give to you, to us a brief
Return to innocence.