A poem about the decisions of life. |
When you think back and realize all the dark times you’ve been through you wonder how you made it so long, so far. The nostalgia can be overwhelming sometimes. Well, before you tell yourself it won’t happen again, it just can’t. You won’t sink back into the icy chills that once threatened to take your life. But often you are wrong, and the darkness calls again, tempting you with its bittersweet song. But it is your choice, yours alone. Is that your choice? Do you really want to go back into the engulfing coldness? If you do, go ahead, retreat to where the only thing you know is the black night, full of the remorseful music only you know; somewhere you’ve been before, somewhere safe. Unless that is not your wish, would you rather throw caution to the winds? Would you rather be in bliss? Where the color red doesn’t make you flinch, conjuring thoughts, reminding you what you do. Would you rather be happy? Smiling, truly, when things go wrong, because you know it will get better. It is your choice and no one can make it for you. Optimism or pessimism? Sanguinity or skepticism? Will you be full of joy, or doubt? It is your choice. |