If we shut the door
there’d be some paths
to choose between,
and tomorrows every
time, yet to live unto
our yesterdays will
only do once given
‘way the troubles we
sorely seem to mind.
If it was only right
or wrong, decisions
are ever to hand,
yet none really lives
that save in aftermaths
where certainty stands
in for faith and march
time is made to stop
amid the path.
It’s simply just this
matter; putting away
the second thoughts
of have to, should, and
ought, and just say
some one gentle
word or two of the
happiness we’ve
mostly brought.
