The King of Compromise
You snuck
water into wine
yet I tasted finest
merlot lipstain red
sipped like wasted sundays
spent in bed diluted thoughts
all with never minds
and mixed-up oughts
gone to hazy what the hells
drinking in some lazy things you said
I agreed
you took
the treble from the chimes
made me waste the wise
words and songs unsung
tuned down to lose the race
with troubles plumed
with fluted noughts
old nature lost to dust
it’s wrong to stifle bells
and hearing this your wragged scrape
I watched
you charm
the sleepers into life
unchaste and then declined
red dresses unto nervous creed
unzipped with patient haste
but not a stealer caught
with sneaky lightening down
from threaded skies
once teasing ground and then goodbye.
For calm of dread and dread of more than lies
for arms to lead me now and leading me to finalise
I must conclude, you are the King
of compromise.