Possibility crooks its manicured finger
To lure in the bereft and unsuspecting;
The grass on the other side beckons–
“Could be” trails the air like languid smoke
As it moves toward a future we yet know nothing of.
What to do when I am ensnared?
Beguiling are the daydreams of another life
That haunt me when I am completely alone.
There are many different paths to travel
Each with their own gilded allure.
Possibility is a magnificent hostess
Throwing out a bejeweled arm to the dazzling array.
Which one to choose? Like a child among treats
My imagination samples them all before deciding
Which one’s payment would not be hard to bear.
There are paths where I could lose my soul—
Yes, that expense would be far too dear;
But even worse is the route I could take
Where I stood idly by and did nothing at all.
Catastrophic that could be for you and me.
You wonder the reason behind my claim
Backed by that succulent two-lettered word.
Honestly, by now, I have reason to believe
That my future might not be the same