Our Final Option

we're on the same trips
mostly leisure

we keep on saying
what options do we still have?

we hop from one island to another
we have become missing most of the times

we opt for our privacy
and friends are asking what is happening

one day we walk hand on hand on the park
and it is raining so hard

we keep on asking, what options do we still have?
to run? we have been running away

we do not know what to find really
and we do not ask anymore

the options are all here
inside the house and well fenced.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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