Spoilt victory

It’s a fact of history. It’s part of the contract. If that weren’t the case, why would we play?
Part of the deal our choices we make ev’ry day, all day in infinitesimal ways.

Spoils to the victor.

‘Cause ‘all’s fair in love and war.’ (And money– don’t forget.)

Spoils go to the victor.

Yea it sucks when you’re at a party of mutual friends, and your ex-whatever walks in…with someone else.

Unghxcjkkls. *facepole*

Or that friend you used to hook up with now has a ‘significant other.’ Awwwwk– word.

But the only way to survive is to play the game right: Give way and give spoils, all to the victor.

‘Cause that’s the truth– you lost that one. To keep the peace, you pay the price.
You let it go, shake it off, brush the dust, walk it home back…back…back to start– go.

That’s part of the contract.

Why would we risk if there weren’t spoils? But s’times someone else gets there first, fills the need, and there’s only one thing to do– concede.

Is it really so bad, concession?

There’s a lot else that goes with victory–responsibility, maintenance, threats from the outside. Is it really so bad to lose?

Not when the next chance is on the horizon.

‘Cause that’s why we play. For the next chance, the next round, the next romp round the town– spoils go to the victor.

And until we spoil, we concede. Concede to keep the peace, to make way for vict’ry, because we want need can taste that chance for ourselves. Spoils to the victor.

There’z timez when that’sss the best part of the night:
to walk away from a pair, from work done too early to go dancing with spare light.

There are days when it’s not.

But without the chance of next success, why would we enter at all? Too much pain, not enough pleasure brief flashes of an ans-wor-[hear]d.

Spoils go to the victor.

You win. Play nice. Shake hands. Walk away.

Away and away, off ‘venturing to ‘splay.

To the death of the ego–

Image found on thepoliticalcarnival.net.