He had so many futures,
so many paths to choose from.
It’s truly a pity, then, that he never did choose one;
choosing instead to watch his choices melt away,
one by one,
swallowed by The Choice He Never Made.


“A hundred paths,
all shining bright;
a hundred paths
he’d never take.

He chose instead
to stay in bed—
a fateful choice
he’d never make.”


His options were lovely,
each one leading to Greatness.
But the longer he stayed,
the more time he wasted,
the less of them he seemed to see.


“Fifty paths,
still shining bright.
He didn’t choose;
he’d rather wait.

Why choose today,
when either way
all fifty paths
led somewhere great?”


He sat, unperturbed,
as the Choice He Never Made continued to burn through his options,
eliminating the remaining paths.
Destiny, he resolved, would decide his path.


“Seven paths,
not quite as bright—
yet tantalizing
all the same.

He’d sit and wait
to see his fate;
patiently,
until it came.”


It happened fast, and all at once,
when it dawned on him—
he had made the Choice He Never Made.


“A hundred paths,
upon a time.
A game he watched,
but never played.

A hundred gone,
except for one—
the Choice he chose,
but never made.”