I have come to realize that the hardest thing
to do is not picking out an option from two that
are very similar in nature, but rather putting myself first.
I am a poet's poem
but was never a choice to be taken.
Never be an option. Let them choose you because it is you.
a coward holds the lovers card upright in his hand
told them both he’d take to the promise land
torn between two queens, all confused
didn’t want to leave any of them bruised.
a naive youngster held the fool in reverse
fell for all the tricks and games was the curse
she gave in full but took none, always came at second best
time wasted being used, finding out again she was just the guest.
a man afraid to choose so he led both on because he didn't want to hurt any
a woman believed him and she was always an option but never the choice
My choice is never final
I second guess every decision
Option two again
and back to one
I like it but I do not
I move forward
my other shoe is behind.
The deepest cut
is the first
then the one that follows
I find that I am tired
as my essence puddles out
crimson tears form in the well
and become a weeping waterfall
of wasted life and battered choices
I want to take it back---
but the redness of me,
seeking to be exposed to the outside
and remain uncaged from weakness.
BUYER'S REMORSE, Copyright © 2020
Andrew Layman, All Rights Reserved.
If you still are an option for someone to choose than darling,
it's better to change your route
as those who love you dearly,
they don't take you as a choice.
I know all
And You Know
all the Routes.
So I thought
getting lost in your
And I will
RETURN when you
SHIFT your OPTION
ENTER, as my ENTER key is always
waiting for you to ENTER.
© Feelings Coated
I don't want to be used
I want to be loved
I don't want to be your moon
When the Sun is not around!
"It suffers ;
Not ; I suffer"
this being realised ;
operate using a buffer :
A Curtain Option
Is What's Being Discussed
Brimming with people,
Some seemingly moving thoughtlessly,
Through sidewalks and dirt roads,
As if they have not a thought,
Beside what lies in tomorrow,
And an evening spent at home.
It is sad no?
A world without thought,
Is barley a world at all.