Choices
Thrice I’ve come through your doors Quiet, soft-spoken hellos The resonance of this place, calming Me, afraid to ask you why
Guidance, sought on this, our third encounter That bitter girl of old scoffing at this wanton waste Instilling doubt as you spread your cards ‘You are scammed’ she laughs, mocking me
Perhaps she is right, yet Your words, imperfect, resonate true Fear, in your eyes, and pity As you tell me of hardships to come
“Scammed’ she whispers, laughing And I almost choose to believe Yet, your sincerity, humility suggest If I am fooled, you also fool yourself
Too many coincidence to be coincidences Too much resonance to be untrue I do not know if I believe But I choose to open my mind.