The Weight of So Much...

Pressed, pruned, encouraged by the strongest means available to grow flat; espaliered thin against some wall or other vertical artifice...just put there and told to thrive, scolded to succeed...
Whence the Euonymus japonicus outside my window, whence many others beside. Mildewed, parched beneath the eaves of this opportunistic fourplex where once a garden grew, it became everything it could, all things considered. It covered a bit of unsightly vinyl siding, placed as an apology, I suppose, for the stark appalling architecture with which someone covered a once sightly bit of Earth. It even bloomed... once, briefly, piqued flies abuzz.
But only for so long.
From compacted soil: weak roots; from drought and neglect: mildew; and finally, from the punishing stress and weight of one snowstorm, from one test of true strength: collapse.
For this plant, grown for a singular purpose, it is a decisive end. It is broken and cannot become something else. By my spade, or by my pruners' blade, it will be removed, an intolerable weakness, a failure.