Upon my dais, I must stand,
each construction brick a choice,
growing higher year by year,
with each decision and thoughts to voice.

There is no destiny, except the one we make,
there are no reasons we are here,
just a random bit of chance,
just take a look it's all quite clear.

So when you lay the mortar,
between decisions made,
will your building be secure,
with considered choices paid.

Or will it rock and twist,
with the blowing winds of change,
will it be square, cookie-cutter ticky-tack,
or will it be your own, secure but shaped quite strange.

You're the general contractor,
the platform of life you must build,
stand upon it proudly,
the power is yours to wield.