I so do realize how you despise to compromise.
The need you feel to make it real that you be right.
It supersedes all rational thought, and spins and spins
In cyclonic bursts and torques of an uncontrolled self.

Gale force winds shape and force a win. Regardless.
Too late to see the battered tree once proud. Toppled.
Roots exposed in crater too shallow. Unprotected.
Leaves clinging, but dangling and turning brown. Wilted.


    1. Thank you so much. I had it originally that way, then included it in the sentence. I read it a couple times and went back to the isolated one, as I liked it so much better. It also then lead to doing it for the last words of each line in the 2nd stanza…

      …sorry…too much “splaining”?

      Liked by 2 people

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