The Final Straw

I lost my spit and shine

And the all weather finish

That had served me so well

Against the inclement

I had been less than diligent

With my applications

You might call me lazy

But I was tired of the front

And dropped my guard

The signature of a chump

I took the blows due me

And maybe more besides

But there’s always a final straw

An injury that cannot be borne

Often it’s a concealed blade

Nestled in the hand of a friend

I’d be a hypocrite to complain

My dabs were all over that instrument

The blood on my hands was not my own

My complicity was beyond all reasonable doubt

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