Avenue

Sometimes despair
Is the only avenue.
Choose, they command.
And try though I might
I can’t.
What then can I do?
What must I do?
I envy your
Convenient faith
That does not question.
Verifiable in its certainty.
I wonder if the same folk
Told me I had choice.
The chances are
It was so.
The chances are
Mine to waste.

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