Turner wrote another poem? Madness. Here it is.
A man of many words,
A woman of many thoughts,
Silence radiating through,
Communication a flat line,
Hopes and dreams pushed under the rug,
Fear and loathing spreading,
Resentment and pain festering in minds,
Inevitable death and dashed desires,
Never moving and never changing,
A man of not enough words,
A woman of no thoughts.
I have never been one of those people who can immediately make a decision. Whether it be choosing a favourite movie, deciding what to do when going to hang out with a friend, or really anything else, I have trouble deciding. I don’t know why this is, but I have a few theories. Maybe my soul is more of a hummingbird than a piranha. I can’t go for the kill and make a decision instantly. Maybe there are just so many possibilities, it seems silly to just choose.
This makes life a little more loopy, but I don’t mind. I’ve found this also makes it difficult to take a concrete stance on something, because I can easily see both sides. Being indecisive has also been a gift. I find myself thinking so much more. Because I see all options and weigh them, I take the time to make the right decision, if there is such a thing.