Fork

Why is it that feeling lonely and helpless inspires good art?

Fork

Not the better half of a spoon,
the supposed forks in life.
At some point you reach a fork they say.
You can go one or the other way.
The choice makes you who you are.
All the forks you cross
make the life you dream of.

How I would like to reach one.
I see no fork in sight.
The only one direction available
is the one i keep going on
No choices dished out,
Its all decided for me.

The only choice I have here is
to be happy on the predestined road
Or curse the fate, be unhappy.
What choice do I make you ask?
happy I choose to be
but wait, unhappy at the same time.