By: Jeannie Chiasson

The Choice

I stare unknowingly
At the two figures before me.
I must choose one.
Feeling the crowd's eyes assaulting me,
I know not which one to pick.
I want to choose them both.

The one to the right;
He stands straight, rightiously.
He is the favorite of the crowd.
They roar for me to pick him.
He appears gentle and charitable.
An old man in a young body.

I consider Him a moment,
Knowing it is the more convenient choice.
I hear the crowd proclaim His name.
They will be enraged if I do not chose Him.

The one on the left;
She stands there alone, yet not alone.
Her eyes sparkle with an inner fire.
The crowd ridicules and torments Her.
She has the gentleness and strength of a mother,
The joy of a child.

I consider Her a moment.
Knowing they will be furious if I choose Her.
They do not like or understand Her.
She is not like them.

He offers me the comfort of convenience,
A guilded cage in which to be free,
The security of ignorance,
The freedom from choice.

She offers me the bliss of loneliness,
A bright star covered in darkness,
The elated dance in hiding,
The uncertainty of love.

Each with their joy,
Each with their pain.
I know what to do.
I close my eyes
And let my heart choose.

Untitled
i didn't lose my balloons on purpose
i didn't want them to fly away
i wept at their departure
gradually they floated off to places i
couldn't
wouldn't
follow

i watch each fly away
i'm not fast enough to stop them
my hands are too small to hold them
they fly away without me
into the sky

Any comments on these poems? Please e-mail me. [email protected]

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