Choices
To each one’s fortunes it is given
A little of hell, a little of heaven
That their choice they might decide
And choose as their wills might
But it’s a choice shrouded in mists
Bad roads to mountains, good roads to cliffs
What seems good ends up a waste
And the good has a bitter taste
The hours pass and life runs down
While the choices run round and round
Yet time is the only way to see
What each choice was really meant to be
Perhaps that’s why the young aren’t wise
With too much time to blind their eyes
While the aged though their years are spent
Each choice’s true nature comprehend
So now young I to my fortune am given
A little of hell, a little of heaven
But how to choose what’s bitter but right?
I guess I’ll borrowed aged wisdom’s sight
Copyright © 2019 by May Kwek
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