The Poem of Choices
The time has come,
To face the choices I so dread.
Do I use a gun, pointed at my head?
Or do I run from all my fears?
Do I lie in a corner, drowning in all my tears?
Or should I try to ask for help?
The time has come,
To face the choices I so dread.
Life doesn't seem so good,
So I'd rather be dead.
(c) Natasha Wismer
02/28/95
