sitting on a park bench.
Sitting on a park bench
As the waves sway
My mind beings to wander
My thoughts float away
I’ve come to a time
I must make a choice
But options clang in my head
I can’t hear my own voice
The path above is filled with flowers
That may melt and float away
But the path below if filled with gold
Buried, but sure to stay
The choices tire my soul,
I don’t believe I could choose.
It would be so easy to close my eyes,
And let it all slip away.
