it was one of those times when i stare
into a black hole and wonder what's inside,
when i know for a fact that unless i put
my finger in, i won't be able to know.
it was one of those moments
when everyone around me gathers
as an audience of the colosseum, cheering me on
as i seem to have made a decision of where
to go from here, but in truth have just departed
from my house, onwards towards
the difficult path we call decisions.
and what if i got it wrong? my knowledge from books
has informed me thus: that robert frost told us
whichever path will work, but how would he know if he
had only taken one path? if the second path was unknowable,
how did he know that it would be the same?
or is it rather my feelings
as i take that first step
that matters, other
than the direction i take?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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