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There are two roads a man might choose
When plotting out the course of life,
The sanguine stonebridge of solitude,
Or the precarious path walked with a wife.

That steady passage of chastity;
With guarded heart and simple ways;
One might live such life contentedly,
‘Til his very last and final days.

Or he may cast lots upon family;
Forget that storied, heart-broke past
And live out his years most happily,
Yet, what guarantee that such might last?

Whether another’s love or ascetic tone,
That one small question may echo still:
Is it better to know he will die alone,
Or to love, wondering if he will?

Copyright 2005© crfauchald

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