I wrote this in 2009 when I was feeling contemplative about life.

Sylvia Plath gets me

Horizon

The horizon stretches out before me
In a limitless manner
I see a future but am unsure
Of which path to walk towards
Everything is a blank slate to me
Undefined by my indecision
The moment I choose
Is the moment I’ll become
Something, anything
Than the nothingness
That I am

The horizon stretches out before me
Offering everything and nothing
Offering this or that
Offering a wasted life
Or a meaningful one

The horizon stretches out before me
And I need to stop
My hesitation
And become a person of actions
And do something, anything
So the horizon is not wasted

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