In my mind are two chairs
Two old coffee mugs holding half-empty pens and chewed pencil ends.
They face each other, like battalions, brave-faced upon the battlefield
Seated are two eternal foes
Locked in place by their distaste
For how the other thinks
And how his coffee mug is placed.
One is the first to propose
The Other is quick to retort
His thesis torn, he retreats
To addendum his remarks.
The Other now forwards his case
His confidence is soon displaced
As the first smugly dismisses his idea
With a look that One has come to fear.
Now the tension has been built
Each attempt and failure wrought
One prepares a volley
Whilst the Other prepares a full assault
On the mark, they fire at will
Their points of order flying true
The blur of criticisms fast
But the number of concessions few.
The casualties are piling up
The wounded lie discarded
Each angle shall be exploited
No talking point unguarded
The battle rises to a heat
And yet they argue still
Their weapons useless in their hands,
Their voices aim to kill
Eventually they hang their heads
And sit back at their desks
Their conflict has been settled
The victor can receive their cheque
But neither can begin to cheer
Or break out into song
For all they found in fighting was
That both of them were wrong.