Compromise
My friend and I seldom agree.
He wished to compromise with me.
Pick a topic he said, said he.
Murder is wrong my choice would be.
We debated long through the night,
Compromise seemed well beyond sight.
Then with brilliance of one accord,
An answer our minds brought aboard,
Having the distinct aroma
Of quiet life-lasting coma.
Had we fashioned a zombie dead,
With life only inside his head?
No need on earth we should digress,
Since compromise produced progress.
Copyright © David Drowley | Year Posted 2024
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