BADLY managed temper, faulty sense of pride–now a duel to fight.
LUNGE of epee mistimed, opponent ready with counter, and then: so little time left.
GAUDY seems the world with its colors as sight is ebbing,
GAZER laid out, looks up at trees and clouds, the last impression. Takes one more breath, his last.
Note: I guess this balances out the hilarity of Steven’s poem. Not that that was my intention.
Good piece…no giraffes! Seriously, I like this, with its picture of someone’s way of life leading rapidly downhill.