melancholy
A Poem To Help You Accept All Your Lost Battles
Some battles are better not to be won
You were like a morning cigarette
On an empty stomach after a drunk night
Like a cherry stolen from neighbour’s garden
You were dying to be stolen
And I knew I mustn’t, that I shouldn’t
I knew I will get caught
You were like a scab on a child’s knee
You were dying to be picked
Child knows it mustn’t pick it, that’s why it does
Some battles are better to be lost
It’s better for both sides
It’s better for one to lose the battle
Than to both lose by the victory of one
One more, one less
But a defeat is a defeat
In some battles victory means beginning of a war
A war I wasn’t ready for
A war I knew I have lost
My victory is Pyrrhic victory
Now I lay down my defenses
Take what’s left of me
You haven’t brought it all with you
Take these last bits of hope
There somewhere between me and the wall
From the weeks unchanged linen
The linen that smells of what we were
Of what we could be
Of what must have been
Where you were
Where for me you still are
Take your lighter that you stole from your friend
A lighter that is now mine
A lighter that is broken
Take your scent from my lungs
Take yourself from my dreams
Take whatever you want, but please
Bring me back myself, bring me us
Let everyone envy our little victories
Our little battles, our invincible world
In this battle I surrender
Some battles are better to be lost.
—
Submitted to ArtParasites by Vepar
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