If your question was a tree,
the answers would be the fruit
and every one
is ripe
and low hanging,

yet somehow you manage to partake
in a feast of rot and harvest sickness
where fertility is rampant.

Withheld fortunes of spring's past
spoiled in the jar,
yeah, you ****** it up.
It was really simple too,
but you break your own themes
over your knees to be correct.

You fail anyways.
White noise in sheets like
rain over your party
and your guests burn you
for treachery.

Whether you assume responsibility,
or it is forced upon you
these consequences will be yours.
The answer is simple then really;
Don't **** up.