Promises have expiry dates,
Consume within three days.
Store in a cool, dry place before
The secrets have their ways.
Always keep them upright because
Every so often, they break.
They aren’t designed to take the strain
Of a lonely soul’s heartache.
Once broken, they lie still upon the ground,
And for some, it’s a force of habit:
Evading, ignoring or running from them faster
Than a white, waistcoated rabbit.
If you make a promise, you face a battle,
And the fight may not be fair.
Circumstance comes dressed in a suit of armour
With a white-hot, resentful stare.