choice
He had it all
The fame, the publicity
The fans, the wealth
The popularity.She was down and out
A nomad on the street
Fighting with raccoons
For scraps of old meat.He was content
He had a house, a wife, and a cat
A steady career
Heading for the fast-track.She wished she'd die
No longer knew wrong from right
Beer and drugs
With someone new every night.He was in love
In a dream state everywhere he went
He'd bought her jewels, cars, clothes
He'd faked a French accent.She wanted more
It was never enough
She felt the only way to happiness
Was through more stuff.Some wondered, some did not
How what was had come to be
But the one thing they all uttered
Was, "It's damn hard to be me."Then one day they were gathered
All the people of the earth
And were shown the little embryo
Of which had come their birth."Before this world had seen you,"
Said Somebody to them,
"This is what you looked like,
A tadpole with a stem."Then each of you were born
And started life out with a wail,"
Said Somebody to them
As He went on with His tale."Before you even blinked your eyes,
Before you found your voice,
You had this thing inside of you,
A thing that we call Choice."After that first breath the sameness ends,
From then on it was you
And then it was your Choice that told you
What you thought you'd do."Eventually you ended up
Where you are today,
Living as you do
'Cause you don't see another way."You feel alone and stranded
But choice is not gone like you felt
Instead, once getting you thus far
It thought it'd go hide from itself."Now something works when Choice is gone
Or at least, so it seems,
What gets you through another day;
Mechanical routine."It kicks in automatically
And works so very long
You just may never notice
That something has gone wrong."The problem is that once it starts
It never changes track
It makes choices already made
You can't even try to look back."When changes must be made
It's impossible to do,
Because that's something that routine
Just can't do for you."You say it's so hard to be you
But you don't see the problem;
The thing is that NOT being you
Is simply not an option."Think back to the first choice you made
And how it felt to make it;
Now recreate that feeling in yourself
And then embrace it."It's not the being you that's hard,
It's actually what you lack;
The ability to wear red
When you've always worn just black."When you go back to your lives today
Remember what I've said
And when routine starts to kick in
Use your choice, instead."So with His words stuck in their minds
They went back to their lives
And let this newly unearthed Choice
Thaw out their insides.When asked by yet another fan
For just one night in bed
He forgot his pimp reputation
And slowly shook his head.She threw rejection out of mind,
Forgot the name of "slob",
Then proudly walked with head held high
To an interview for a job.He played hookie and once,
For the first time in his life,
Put the briefcase down
And bowled with his wife.She pulled the needle out
And knocked the beer can over
Climbed out of bed
And said, "It's time to get sober."He slapped himself silly
And opened his eyes
And saw that she only
Liked him for his lies.She threw away the Visa
And paid off the bill
Gave half of her belongings
To the nearest Goodwill.They found that it's hard
To break a routine
But the rewards can be greater
Than the mind can conceive.And when the skies are blue
And the earth is sunny
All they can do
Is thank Somebody.Poetry Central>>>
Created 8/24/03
Updated 8/24/03
© 2003 Kristin Lindgren