I return again to a life that doesn’t change
at once familiar and equally strange.
Decisions to be made at last:
To start fresh or get over the past.
I am continually unsure of what action to take,
whether there will be good results or another mistake.
Opposing sides whisper in opposite ears,
breeding competition and feeding my fears.
I march along calmly, then frantically falter,
Run back where I came from, seemingly unaltered.
I wait anxiously for others to decide my fate.
The sun’s going down, the hour is late.
Yet decisions are too final for me to make
and consequences to weighty for me to take.
So I wait constantly to be told what I want to hear:
Yes, I am loved but there’s another more dear.
So that I can be free to do as I please at last.
But my patience is fading away so fast
that I fear I may have to be the one who acts.
I’m afraid of doing things I can never take back.
That path has let me down before,
so badly I fear to decide anymore.
Once you leave, you can never return.
Once you cross over, all bridges are burned.