the saddest thing in the world is resignation

the saddest thing in the world is resignation
he sighs, offers an empty smile, and nods his head
inside he is not yet dead
but the heartwood has been struck a blow
and none of the shoots we used to see grow
blossom no longer brightens spring and perfumes it
branches weaken and deadwood is held up in supplication

he was a long bow once
flexible, strung, full of potential
and he could strike targets at a distance
stood tall and embodied strength
every time you saw him tense
he was ready to spring forward
to launch a needed attack on the world

it has become a hazard
buffeted by the wind
it must be cut down
all the dreams dreamt in the shadow it cast
are relegated to the past
all to become detritus for some unplanted future
all the roots are pulled up

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