It Is All Your Decision

dressed so thickly on a cold season
you decide to go to the top of the mountain

alone, and there you sit for hours looking at
the trees, and hills, and patches of villages

below, your feet hangs on a cliff, your hands on
the side of the mountain, secure on the tall grass

beside you, some twigs whisper the necessity
of being alone with yourself, wondering what

happens next, when you finally decide to jump
and then forget about what happens

next. This is the ultimate decision of your life.
To end it

Or to go down and think and start all over
again.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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