To Soon Was My Bad Luck

With each new day and soon to soon night comes it's not the rain you hear. Yesterday is gone the day before. Leather straps the razor it is loud upon the cheeks and how the flesh can find no space what with loud moans. Inside the womb through filtered light around the water is how I am first and why the others last I feel a hand. Where I'm not the other is to where I am it is a door slammed shut to where I can not go I'm to old to stoop where others sit then stand and when I leave the other comes my luck was never like it should have been nor will it be like once before.