My bag of beans in the end,
Took my gold for mere pretend.
Days, like bags of pennies spent,
Left me unsure where my life went.

You think you have time,
But unless you act all you get
Is no change for your dime,
Just the sharp pain of regret.

If I could live my life over again,
I would still decline,
I think pain waits regardless when,
Within each tick of time.

When you reach the crossroad in the wood,
Take, or take not, the road less travelled,
But before your life becomes unravelled,
Know that poem is one oft misunderstood.

‘Before you look at what you have in a negative light, remember that just because you were born, that doesn’t mean you were ever inherently ‘entitled’. Life doesn’t ‘owe’ you anything. In the end, extreme circumstance aside, you are in control of your life, even if it doesn’t seem like it at the time. You almost always have a choice, so don’t blame life if things aren’t how you want them. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and realise the decisions have always been yours the whole time’- (paraphrased Dean Leysen)

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