The Tears Of The Tiger by Ian Lewis Copestick

Brit Grit, Ian Copestick, Poetry, Punk Noir Magazine

Sorrow comes like the tears of the tiger,
Unstoppable like Niagara Falls.
I am as hopeless as the Third Reich,
Marching on towards Stalingrad.
Or as sad as a puppy bought for Xmas
That gets dumped on Boxing day.
Everything in my life is going wrong
And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I stumble, bumble through each day
Hoping things will be better tomorrow.
Of course I know they never will
But optimism is all I’ve got.