Friday, August 3, 2012

Choices

Excuse me while I dry my eyes and make some coffee.



Choices are what bind us
To our dreams & lives

A sad and lonely man sits upon his chair
Wanting to make some friends
But trying to find an income binds him in despair

To senior, too skilled
Not enough hair
The excuses don't matter
What choice is there?

Wanting to write a novel
Or see a stage show
Less time for love & comfort
When he rises from his chair

Looking past the window
The day glows bright

If he is not at his desk
Trawling job boards
The terror of night grips
And the black dog barks


How to say I love you
But I won't be there
When you have finished work
To keep us clothed fed & fair

I would rather dance upon a stage
Or write a novel of a space marine gone mad
Than look deep for my soul
And sell it to the first employer with change to spare

But I choose a house & home
Food warmth and comfort
Than making new friends
Or seeing a star being upon the stage

To change
I need to choose
What & whom?
Life is unfair