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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #1232347
Choose your own destiny, for you can be crueler to your self, than fate can.
Indecision

A young woman,
Comes into town,
As softly as she can;
Her eyes cast down.

This woman hast,
Cried many a day,
For her forgotten past,
Leaves her be, nay.

She knows well that,
Though by her past, she is troubled,
(It is like a stinging gnat),
The number she guesses is probably doubled,

Of the club's members,
Who like her,
Not one remembers,
Before the last years or further;

Who searched for their past,
And found it,
Many also hast,
Wished to again, forget.

She also knows,
Of they who search and never find,
And to their woes,
One day find their faces with age, lined.

Lastly, she also remembers the fact;
Many are troubled what they can't forget,
As she hesitates to act,
Long past her stages of fit; H

Her eyes still cast down,
She quails at the decision;
She turns and walks back out of town,
In anguish and pain of indecision.

They say that fate is cruel,
I say different,
When challenged by yourself to a duel,
Don't let yourself be bent.

When you dare to take the chance,
Even though you may fail,
You have the chance to enjoy life's dance,
But if in indecision you quail;

You sentence yourself to a cruel fate,
A dark life, a meaningless path,
You even lose the date;
Crueler than fate in all of it's wrath.

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