Choices

I cried myself to sleep and began to dream
I was standing at a crossroads
Which path do I take?
I closed my eyes and asked the wind for guidance
But there was no breeze
I was on my own
One path, twisted and turned, steep and treacherous
Following the thread of my illusive dreams
Attainable only if I could negotiate the rough terrain that might well kill me
The other, straight and narrow
A direct route to the gray nothingness of politically correct acceptability
Safe even as it would drain the joy from my very being
Which do I choose?
Uncertainty?
Possible failure and the crushing death that would bring
The same path which also holds the chance to have it all
Or conformity?
A slow and steady decay of my soul until I may as well be dead
I stood, looking from one to the others
Hesitant to throw away my dreams
Hesitant to hold on to them
I dreamed I was at a crossroads
And then I cried myself awake