Swings

I remember being younger when the playground was in bloom, 

You told me that I had a choice to use just one; But whom? 

The slide was overcrowded and I could never get a ride, 

The swings were yet my favorite but not much different from inside. 

I never was a monkey bar, hard, yet spoken of the best, 

You told me you enjoyed seesaw... ( I'd never dare confess). 

So on those days when I was young and contemplated which,

I thought that it would matter so I gave myself a push.

Yet then I never knew how much this meant just now,

When I walked onto the stage of the ceremonial bow,

I now again was put in front of many which to choose,

a path that I should follow in the footsteps of; but whose?

The slide was public service of those jobs in which unburdened,

The swings were writing poetry if lower means were worth it,

The monkey bars were Doctors with their many steps and wear,

Seesaws were the teaching jobs I simply could not bear.

So now I sit while blossoming; me myself in bloom,

You told me there were choices,

but left out that I was doomed.