Bright Vials of ‘Maybe’s’

It was never going to be a smooth ride

Naive, I stepped right into Love’s wormhole

Believing for fairness, just times and tides

Collecting bright vials filled with “maybe’s”

But Fate had beaucoup trials slated…

Consequences dependent not on whether

I faithfully paid my tithes, attended church

But which way I’d decide at every crossroads.

I was ill-equipped to make wise choices.

Will the voices inside ne’er cease harsh chide?

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

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