Junction J

Two paths diverge before you;

neither one is safe.

Which do you choose?

You cannot gauge the peril

nor predict which will end worse;

an impromptu viking funeral?

or crushed to death in a hearse?

There are no guarantees in life,

except that it will end;

every decision, every day

is like that fork at Junction J;

we stumble, blindly, ever forwards

with only the faintest hope

of a quick, forgettable end.