Namely, the fork.
Gravel or tarred, you may ask,
yes, the decision is hard.
You formulate individual weight,
But the scale stays in universal equilibrium.
Both in both
Each in each
Life is no dream neither non – fiction.
They call it, a tragic love story, even better: The Titanic Test.
Why is this you ask, Miss X?
Because we all die
It just depends on what we die as?
A man or a monster?
How hard the rain falls on the roof.
How you wish the sun should shine when it rains
But when it burns you to cancer you wish you had wished for more rain
We cannot have it all.
We are mere marionettes of what has meaning
As independently dependent as they may be
What we feel desire to live for,
That is the answer to the question.
Not the gossip folk
Or the complexes
Not the chances
Nor the fear
It is the dare to share and extend a part of you
A part of your ability
A part of your capacity
To the part of the world who will understand
Stringed or winged, you test and retest Miss X
Until you find what you would love to do
Even better, the true you.
OK.
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