I know this sucks and things like it have probably been written over and over. I'm just upset and can't seem to do anything except write dumb and dull rhymes.
Eggs all hatch, or at least remaining ones.
Others lay cracked, killed by rivalries sons.
Birds perched on shells weep their songs,
raising their beaks to cry lamenting wrongs.
The songs, they are sang by each competitor,
yet, they will be sang again, after next winter.