The Choice

They say that I should not be independent;

Like themselves they want me to crawl.

I am lectured by them that every act of mine is wrong,

When all I do is follow the inner voice I hear in me.

They come in various names and

Under the guise of some relationships;

But each one of them is what I call

Defeat-incarnate, and they try to enfeeble me.

Much have I cried while fighting them

And now the tears have all dried up;

The defeatists are still there, talking foul

But I have shut my ears to them,

As I hear now, only what I choose to hear:

Words of love and words of truth

Etched in this soul eternal.