Jan 2016
by a cracked window,
grow crooked soul,
how high the rose climbs,
to yet wither and fall,
may both happen at once,
it happens not at all,
to take no chance to bloom,
is no chance at all.
yet is its destiny to tumble,
and shatter to glass?
then once again rise,
in a year to pass,
but should it keep falling,
down to the roots,
would it not grow again,
if it were to choose?
grow crooked soul,
how high the rose climbs,
to yet wither and fall,
may both happen at once,
it happens not at all,
to take no chance to bloom,
is no chance at all.
yet is its destiny to tumble,
and shatter to glass?
then once again rise,
in a year to pass,
but should it keep falling,
down to the roots,
would it not grow again,
if it were to choose?
Just a thought;
tough choices keep you from choosing, allowing themselves to grow, until a choice must be made and you cant control where it goes.
Tell me what you think? of choices or the poem, either way; Thanks for reading.
tough choices keep you from choosing, allowing themselves to grow, until a choice must be made and you cant control where it goes.
Tell me what you think? of choices or the poem, either way; Thanks for reading.
