Mirror full of choices

What is it about choices?

I see the broken mirror;
Shards lying at my feet;
I feel the bloody tear;
Trailing down my cheek.

I stare at my shattered image;
Lying on the floor below;
Each peice a haunted visage;
Trapped with no place to go.

Shards show infinite directions;
each reflection a path to choose.
I may not always win;
But then again, I don't always loose.