On The Day You Choose

on the day you choose

on a day this is chosen for you

you will hear the news

you will make the news yourself

and read every book on the shelf

or let others read to you

exactly what they choose

what they leave out

and watch their clock

until there's no time then

for you to grieve

or even feel the need

to know what feeling is at all

anymore;

to dutifuly watch a wall, a door

expecting angels any minute

or at least a few fault finding

managers good at telling

others what to do,

especially you

they think won't have a clue

without them.

and you hear it drop,

that other shoe,

the final snow;

snowed under, You!

and the winter 

of the life you chose not to choose

is blooming like a blackened rose

they want to sell;

your soul at a discount

so they can live well.

remember it when (your Soul, defend!)

so fresh so new,

so golden, God would talk to you!

but you obeyed

bizarre commands

that never came from God's dear hands

on any mountain, near or far

to quench the light of your birth star,

to not live as yourself.

and you know well

if nothing else

after a lifetime left unlived

and nothing more inside to give

how not choosing was choosing.

mary angela douglas 5 january 2016