Bewildered and lost,
and of such airs, that do plague the ponderance of because,
for what it is this,
the decision that cannot be made in a brief pause,
the decision that so ruminates, and cogitates upon the brain,
the decision, that meander through the many paths,
of different thoughts,
and wherein deciding, is never an easy thing,
for upon broken wings, you wish for simple things,
and of the raw emotions of the heart,
oh, how difficult it is,
how difficult is deciding on the matters of love,
and always, always such a delicate art.
