MORE CHOICES
A forging path lay ahead, quite invisible
at times though,
Like “The road not taken” by Robert Frost,
The opportunities I missed ran through my
eyes,
It seemed swelling up my eyes to regret the
self.
Then, the rim shone in, to sense me, feel
myself,
Ya, after all, the divergent ways are explicitly
there,
Present in all phases, pathetic to
harmonize with,
For choices are made not out of waste but
of mere haste.
It’s rather easy to choose a narrow lane
and sync in,
But highly competent to select the less
traced trails,
One appeal
so bushy with ferns and mosses lay behind,
The other outdated and unused by thorny,
filthy straps of heap.
Oh, it’s a fright I believe sometimes to
decide,
Am I making the right assessment at times?
Or simply my instinct propels me to budge
ahead,
And be deceived in a momentary pleasure of
smiles.
Hey, pin your ears back, life is full of
CHOICES, and so opt the best one,
Or else you’ll just end up lamenting at all
junctures without fail.
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