Choices

He has come home from work
I fear knowing what will happen
His footsteps become closer
I wait at the table - trembling - keeping a steady face

He comes in the room
He is angry
He looks at me
He slaps me

I look at the table
And cry
I see two things
A gun and a key

The key unlocks a door
It has many options
That are not promising

The gun will fulfill its purpose
But regret and shame lay within

I lock the gun
I see what I’ve done
And my door full of options
Is gone

I take the key
And through it in the sea
But I know that it has not seen the last of me
For the next time we meet – it will lock me

Author Notes: I hope you enjoy this poem!
- Classic

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