A Choice

The vicissitudes of life bring down many a man Shackled to their fates like cattle led and damned While some break away making lives anew While others dwell on sorrow, wasting away like the morning dew How often does one think of the eaves of life? Of memories, regrets, and solitude rife? How often do things change in such a short time? Finding yourself anchored, left behind? Often the dreams of a man are sweet and hopeful Yet it is crushed, with futures doubtful Do we not yearn for change, for something better? But we tremble still, our lives fraying on the tether What about of hope, of love, of peace? Are we not entitled to all of these? Yet look upon our true selves and we see A pitiful man not worthy of ease So how are we to move toward life? When we deserve not even the faintest light? Do we dwell in these sorrowful reflections? Or reforge life's mold and carve new directions?