By Kaya DeAngelis, Stonehill College
All at once it comes to fruition
As these things often do
Each path looks golden garnished
Each road been paved anew
I’m stuck within the crossroads
To choose between them is a sin
Only when I’m growing weary
Will I finally give in
Pile supper on my plate
Can’t speak without a storm
The lightning flashes warning lights
Leaves me battered, broken, torn
Can you see the headlights
Glowing wicked through the drought
I’m drowning in the puddles
Jump on in and let me out
When the roads grow old and tarnished
And the gold no longer shines
You’ll find me here still reeling
Still waiting to pass the time
I call it all a fortune
The way he plays the pawns
But now I too, must wonder
Who leads the gambit when he’s gone
Is the power in my hands now
Should I lay it down to sleep
I’m terrified to let it go
White knuckled, counting sheep
