decisions must be made
in dark alleys
of wishes and regrets,
leaving behind many
who he’ll never be able
to walk with.
the thought of choosing
makes his heart
ache,
left or right,
fast or slow,
right or wrong.
there’s no right way,
honey. there is no
right way…
so instead,
he closes his eyes,
opens his
bleeding heart,
takes a drag
of the city
and his people
and exhales long and slow
let the smoke rings
decide the way
to go.