Left

Left

Left for dead. 

Life's alive or died. 

No inbetweens. 

Just left or rights. 

Just right in place or left alone. 

To trek a road that's built or not. 

The path is paved or overgrown. 

The bricks are layed, yours or owned. 

Left to party. 

Left to rot. 

Death has left us in a knot. 

The lefts and rights in orders tandem. 

To form the locks in ropes of living. 

The thefts of light through doors of random. 

To hold imprisoned. 

Or choke til give in. 

Is it a life worth living? 

A sight worth giving? 

A road well-driven? 

A truth to be hidden? 

A job to fit in? 

A drop never hitting? 

Tires popped, no pitting? 

A book not written? 

Is it worth quitting? 

Maybe out-witting? 

Is life just kidding? 

A lid not fitting? 

A spool for knitting? 

Acid to sit in? 

A hole in an oven mitten? 

An evil kitten? 

A treat half bitten? 

A rainy Britain? 

A throat worth slitting. 

Or maybe a hidden mission. 

To find the wisdom. 

Of others missing. 

To kill the hellhounds and free the bitten. 

Or to free the hellhounds and kill the bitten. 

Up to you is the words of wisdom. 

Of the mission. 

Soldiers of soldering life's meanings together. 

It's right or left. Not foggy weather. 

So never ever. 

Think you know better.