Just a stick in the mud.
You struck me with
those careless words
a little phrase
it turned my head.
I filed it till
it became a bowl
fit for blood, sweat
and bitter tears.
With those shavings
I stoked a fire whose
flames smelled of
cold cursed ambition.
I stoked it
till it nearly
killed me.
I stoked it
’till true wisdom
turned me
against the grain
of your casual
disregard.