All odds seem to be against me.
All people tell me that this is wrong,
But a thousand fools can think a foolish thought,
And it will still be a foolish thought.
My heart’s a battleground.
Logic and reason
Struggle relentlessly against my soul.
Am I blinded by bliss?
Or am I bound by logic?
Do I listen to what others say,
And chance losing my dream.
Or do I go with what I feel,
And chance being marked as a fool.
The answer may seem obvious to those looking in from the outside,
But inside things are much less clear.
I suppose if I am wrong
I will be right back where I started.
Just a little more lost.
It all comes down to one question.
What choice can I live with?
And thus,
Things become a little more clear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the problem is figuring out what you can live with and what you only think you can live with... sometimes its not all that clear