he spoke my language but held no tongue,
upon my arrival he showed me the way,
whichever I chose he had nothing to say.
I saw my reflection in the river in between,
if I went left or right my future was to be seen,
but the man didn't speak, he held his words,
he observed me go left, then followed along.
He pointed to the right where I saw myself walking,
I opened my mouth but I couldn't start talking,
“That’s you in another possibility,”
“I’ll try to explain to the best of my ability.”
Then he told me about variables, change and the universe,
endless outcomes of choices and options that remained constant,
it wasn't until I started aging that it bothered my conscience.
The other me lived a life of loneliness and pain,
for he had taken his choices for granted,
I tried warning him and yelled to explain,
but he had his own memories implanted.
I saw the other me grow memorable and old,
he stopped at a fork in the road awaiting someone’s arrival,
this had been my moment of revival.
So the man explained that in one road I chose to become him,
the foolish decisions had brought upon my ruin,
while in another life I had chose my redemption,
and through this decision I had reached my salvation.