Poetry: The Choice

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On occasion, one comes to understand

That life as a fictional character

Leads to an empty pit, and the effort

To remember the lines corrodes the soul.

In these rare moments of blessed darkness,

One is faced with a choice: to tell the truth

Or let it ride. One could lead anywhere,

The other to the bottomless cavern.

As you consider the choice, images

Of faces turned and sounds of sighs pull hard

In one direction, demanding you call up

The courage to deny them attention

If you have any real intent to learn

The hard part of acting without a script.

 

Photo: © Duey | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

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Poetry: Permissions

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When we first met I found myself engaged

In resistance, conjuring flaws where none

Existed, wishing you would disappear

Like a puff of smoke in a crazy wind.

I avoided contact, conversation

And caring, for I had intuited

That you would bring seismic change to my life,

Wrenching my soul from its weak foundation.

Clinging to hope that you would choose safety,

You chose to risk all you were, all you are,

For someone struggling to earn the freedom

To live every dream and fantasy.

Resistance crushed, I surrendered willingly

To the warm permission to be myself.

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