Fate

FATE
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My drifting memory goes back to a child of five,
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Who saw what a child’s eyes should never see,
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Back to a child who never felt loved,
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For the pain of memory’s that never seem to end,
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For the pain of memory’s that never should have been.
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I now find myself in a room of doors having to choose,
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But knowing very well that what ever door I open to go through
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Will most definitely be the wrong door,
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But will be the door I’ll have to take and face the consequences of where it leads.
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I chose the door marked love and it lead me here to you,
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To live out my short time till fate took over and left me blue.
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Then I would find myself once again in that room of doors
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Having to choose, but with one less door this time,
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And on and on it will go until there is only one door left
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The largest of all fates DEATH!
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Wrote In High School

 

Doors can be a fascinating metaphor for choices in life. And I agree, the biggie is Death.

 

ok so where is every one am I that bad

 

this poem brought in more comments on the old forums, I wish I had never re submitted it

 

i love the ideas presented in this poem, i think it would improve with a bit of editing (lots of repetition of door), but overall i found it really thought provoking