My Expressionist poem

Is it really oursto dictate

the terms and conditions

along the rolling credits

straining to see the imprint

on our lives?

 

Is not a big circle

never ending in its length

its diameter?

so wide and long 

that it can fit it all

the things that seem so endless

and it could fit a thousand letters.

 

It would seem that our lives

are govern’d by the scythe 

waiting to cut the thread

on which rests our life,

and fate decides

where we tread.

But of course there exists

no great folly as fate.

 

Nay we are govern’d

by Destinty

for it doesnt dictate

unlike Fate

as once again

there exists no such a thing.

 

All’s the world a stage

they say,(but)

I say its Improv Everwhere

its every decision you take

at every crossroad you make,

draws you one step close to the edge.

 

Will you embrace the fall

or hold you peace now and forever all?