Deciding what to do is a problem
In life; a billion possibilities
But not all paths are passable, and when
You start out on one, sometimes there’s a freeze
And you get stuck halfway, among the trees
Or treacherous slopes, icy surfaces
And sheer isolation. So do you please
Yourself, which is the hardest path, or base
Your journey upon sensible advice?
Stay in, go out, look up, look down, suspend
Plans, scrap them, or amend? And which of these
Is the right, the most appropriate choice?
Just fighting on, and hoping, in the end
Is the only way any of us sees
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