You May Miss, My Dear

You may miss,
my dear
the Point.
I express my judgment
with force and clarity,
aim and shock-speed impact,
pinpoint-accurate-tip
-grown-to-needle-girthed
swell, sizing rapidly to lance
as it is driven so well
in and all through you
to unhorse all stance
with a light glancing blow,
that transfixed the core.
Sundered every armor-plate,
parted every leather strap
that you strapped-on before
(whoops! There go your pants!
- unintended, I'm sure)
with a logic ironshod
you can't fix no more
than it already was
perfect-pitch, rough-clad,
hard valid and sound
- to conclusion BAD.
For some. My rung, round verdict
gets progressively ever more hung
'round your neck, and it makes you
SO MAD. The conclusion is:

This.

personal judgment

is

inconsequential.

Except to anyone silly enough
to GIVE IT
(freely)
all of the value

it has.

To them. Otherwise,

none.

Which is fine.
Only if you disagree with my assessment
shall you ever have to contend
with mine.

It's not an arena
in which I'd advise you
to try to shine.