The deluge

 
 
Let’s start with the forty days,
forty days to drown in your sorrows
and forty nights to think all those
tomorrow’s were never to be,
 
hey
drown anyway.
 
Some days like some today’s should
be, but are not necessarily all that
they’re cracked up to be or is
that just me being
pessimistic?
 
I’m taking a breather beside her,
poetry has its advantages.

© 2019, John Smallshaw.