Chance


Your call has been automatically forwarded
Your confession stays untold

Your love is now to be kept inside
Your broken heart grows cold

Your mind is whirring like pinwheels on a summer breeze
You wonder if she was busy
Your voice inside says, "Fool! You know this won't come with ease!"

Your hope flutters up, with a voice of melody,
"This will all soon turn around, just you wait and see"

But which to trust, your heart or your head--
Which one will keep you alive, and which will want you dead?

You chose heart, ready to take the fall
You pressed the green button marked Call

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