The first five were easy
And the second not so bad.
It’s the third five, I believe,
That is not to be had.
The fourth is the third
Allover again.
Never mind the fifth—
Number three, to my chagrin.
A shave, a gain, rinse and repeat.
Repeat the third score.
I’ve lost those same five
A hundred times or more.
The daily slog is grinding,
Physical, but mostly mental.
Hey, I sense a plot here—
This shit feels alchemical.
