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.