Choices-A Poem

 

Choices,

Are like the winds of change,

Capricious temptations that pull you either way!

While one pulls you North, the other pulls you South.

Both loaded with possibilities and hidden risks, sweetened

With the promise of prosperity and success, fame, power and 

A fan following. Family, children, peace of mind, and health

Might for others be for another day according to some.

They tell me, they'd rather have the money and power,

Family, children and peace might wait a while.

But who'll tell which to choose?

Power,

Peace, fame, family, money or children, what 

Would to choose? That, none might tell, for choices are one's

Own and none can tell which to choose. The sages will advise wise

 Choices and luck thrown in, for success depends on what one chooses.

They might lead to corridors of power, but who'd see through layers of

Illusion? Wisdom, alas, comes so late. Till then, family and peace can

Wait as fame and wealth stand knocking on the door. Certainly, you'd

Need a lot of wealth to sit back end enjoy life? Choices. alas, are

Flirting geese, that call  out to each other, only to

One on a wild-goose chase!

Luck,

They say, favours the few, and silver spoons are

Hard to find. As for me, I'd rather slog than wait for favours few

And silver spoons. I'll wait for my moment to choose and let luck's

Choices wait a while. Gladly will I choose the path I wish and if luck

Does favour, then a good choice will make. If not then wait a moment!

Should luck be a caprice, then a tango we'll dance, till I get my chance.

If silver spoons that drop from skies are rare enough, I'd rather slog

Than wait for one moment of choice, gladly choosing the path I

Like. If luck does favour, then a good choice I'll make,

If not then wait for another day.

Destiny's

A beggar's choice, for lazy minds to rot! The

 Great flirt with games of dice while gamblers surrender peace 

Family and wealth. Some blame poor choice, loaded dice and 

Destiny. They do nothing but surrender all, blaming the willfulness of

Fate for their loss. The great do flirt with destiny's dice making their own

Game, as fools play a  game of blame. They curse a fate written in style.

Blaming misfortune on fate. They drown in a morass of grief and pity,

While others wander in a fog of grief (having stopped making choices).

They blame destiny's loaded dice for failure, an excuse to quit striving.

All this while the great make their own destiny with verve.