Choices
ClassicHe has come home from work
I fear knowing what will happen
His footsteps become closer
I wait at the table - trembling - keeping a steady face
He comes in the room
He is angry
He looks at me
He slaps me
I look at the table
And cry
I see two things
A gun and a key
The key unlocks a door
It has many options
That are not promising
The gun will fulfill its purpose
But regret and shame lay within
I lock the gun
I see what I’ve done
And my door full of options
Is gone
I take the key
And through it in the sea
But I know that it has not seen the last of me
For the next time we meet – it will lock me
Author Notes: I hope you enjoy this poem!
- Classic
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