Gun to my head,
Life to be led,
Men to be bred.
Stuck in a mould,
Tales to be told,
Children to hold.
Ending these days,
Awards to be praised,
Greetings to wave.
Filling a time,
Making a rhyme,
Forging a mind.
Where to go from here?
(Where’s the next step?
What’s the scenario?)
Gun in my hand,
Where do I stand?
I’m crossing the line.
The choice that I make
Decides my fate,
What am I to do?
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Copyright © 2004 Susan Lewellen