Shall I continue to top off
My tall water glass of sadness?
Or wave the waiter on,
Saying, “No, thanks, I’m fine.”
Shall I hold my bitterness tight,
Clenched like a handful of sand?
Or open my palm and let it go,
Let it become one with the wind?
Shall I clutch my memories to me,
Like a sad corsage turning brown?
Or send my thoughts off like scouts,
Looking for new adventures?
Shall I take my chances like Icarus,
Flying too close to the sun?
Or maybe I’ll burn like a phoenix on fire,
And rise again from my ashes?
