Choices Poem by Cj Heck
Choices
Life is full of crossroads,
the hard lefts or rights,
and little pathways
of curves, this way or that.
Each way has its own set
of bumps and potholes
and the occasional hairpin turn.
I've wondered at times
how my life might have differed
had I taken a different route.
Lord knows,
I could have used
a few more straight stretches
but at least I made choices,
some good, some not so good.
How sad for those
who merely hitchhike along
never daring to choose at all.
CJ Excellent thought to start any day, to pause and reflect and perhaps be thankful for all the good choices one makes. Fortunately, as I get older, my speed of life has slowed and I'm not running off the road so much. Be well my friend. Rusty
Well said, C.J....well said...well thought and composed...well done... Lare
Hello Anonymous. If you will tell me the parts you don't understand, I will be happy to explain them to you. Thanks.
This poem brings back T.S. Eliot's rose garden section in Burnt Norton. The door through which we did not tread...
Someone I know says he will only regret the choices he didn't make...this made me think of him.
It is a bit of a trap, thinking about what we should have done, a choice is a choice, we should just live with it be happy with it, fate will take care of it's own Warm regards AJS
Remember that the Road Less Trod may lead you, unbeknownst, to...a U-turn *_*
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/10/2024 6:08:47 AM # 1.0.0
Well, now where were you when they dumped me off the back of a Mexican Pickup Truck, driving off on their screeching Dunlops, grinning their tacopimpled grins and showing their burritowives how to have a good time. I was just dusting myself off when you drove by: Sedately, brown-eyed, handsome, regal and in a blue dress, with a pink bow. If you had slowed down just a tad, I would have been presentable, we could have taken a turn together, got acquainted at the next hairpin.... C'est la vie. And as you caqn see, we could have lived in the South of France. Good poem. Actually, better. H