I used to dream
Having my tea with cream
And somehow I knew
What I was going through
Was not something new.

Most of my time
I thought I was out of line
I gave you the chance
To make yourself a better man
But all you represented was your hand.

Hoping that you would cut some slack
All you threw at me was black.
All the good times that I remember,
How I miss those times in December.
When we were happy and together.

Bad words washed away by rain
Still so much knowledge to gain.
As always pain was flippant.
Cheer came with the hold indignant.
Warriors a lined for a battle intrinsically
The king giving out commands laconically.