Winning Round
Harsh words impugn if slung in hate
and rip apart a calloused heart.
Expressed regret cannot abate
the pain that permeates our slate.
It's best to stop and take apart
the wagon which has run amuck.
Affix new wheels upon the cart
then shove ahead to a fresh start.
Deep in the mire, our tires are stuck.
Pitch us a chain and yank them out,
and with a teeny grain of luck,
no one perceives our coat of muck.
For friendship wields a mighty clout,
true aid from friends will spread a path.
If fortune bleeds toward that route,
the winner's bell will ring throughout.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
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