Stability

Time for the final bout. Rows of deserted houses: all our stable mates are highway bound.

Give us our measly sum: getting the air inside my lungs is heavenly.



We're starting out with nothing but crippling doubt.

We'll rest easy (justified)



I've suffered a swift defeat. I'll endure countless repeats.

The gift of memory is an awful curse,

with age it just gets much worse.



But I won't mind.