A poem about choice |
Many, Many Choices I am my choices, He said with fierce pride, And listened to the voices That served him as his guide. He paced along the pathway In the drab and barren courtyard, I have many, many choices Is what I heard him say. For I can walk in circles Or sit upon this bench, Or I can change directions, As I tread along this trench. I have so many choices, Which they give me here, For I can listen to the voices That travel to my ear, Or pretend that I don’t hear them, Though they chatter loud and clear. I can sit and eat my dinner, Which they serve me in my room, Or watch the faint light glimmer As it seeps into my gloom, And listen to the voices, Yes, I have many, many choices. I can sleep in the deep darkness, Or I can choose to stay awake And stare into the emptiness, That’s a choice that I can make, I have many, many choices, That’s what the voices say, Many, many choices Every single day, There’s a myriad of choices Available to me, Many, many choices, The cockroaches agree, Many, many choices, For I am truly free. R.J.Dates January 1999 |