It's started to sway being blown by the wind,
Like a rhythmic dance was about to begin.
Slowly it tilted along with the trees,
As it was easily brought to follow the breeze.
The swaying grew stronger into a soft nudge
Causing it to move as it started to budge.
It wasn't dramatic but that nudge soon became
Uneasy as it was bent by the shame.
Under such pressure it then fell
Making the ground a place to dwell.
Now as you hear of this sad tale
Don't overlook the crucial detail.
For you might think the wind had caused it to bend
Or the curious nudge that brought to its end.
But no, my friends, it was much more.
For the stick itself lacked its own core.
