Just a little poem I wrote…
Walking down a long corridor
Passing by a million doors
In the end there are only two.
The black door; freedom,
You can leave everything behind
The white door; strength,
You can face the world.
Whispers surround your decision,
“Pick one! Pick one!” they slither.
Drawn to pick the black,
But will not be happy with yourself.
Scared to pick the white,
For the uncertainty of what lies ahead
Torn between two worlds.
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