As we set out upon life’s twisting ride
sometimes the path we travel will divide.
Two tracks confront us, leading different ways
We cannot take them both, so must decide.

I’m looking backwards through the swirling haze
of years, and at each junction in the maze
among the shadows, I am sure I see
a human figure. They return my gaze:

their penetrating eyes stare back at me.
These are the men that I was not to be,
who took the paths where I chose not to go,
children of unborn possibility.

They beckon me, those men, eager to show
what might have been if I had chosen so.
Their faces wear the smug sheen of success
that could have come my way, perhaps. But no:

I took the easy choices, I confess.
I always walked the gentler path unless
the prize was almost within reach. I went
in search of ordinary happiness.

I found it, so it seemed. I was content
but now the doubts creep in. Have I mis-spent
my time? Did I, too quick to settle for mundane,
forego what could have been magnificent?

And now those shadow men taunt me again.
Their sneers sting me, words ramp up the pain.
“You failed to be all that you could have been,
chose lager when you might have had champagne.”

Their blows hit home. I waver, caught between
annoyance and self-doubt, for I had seen
some truth in what they said. And yet …
how are these men entitled to demean

a life they never lived? Must I forget
all that I love and value? Should I let
these humble things that are what I hold dear
be crushed beneath a landslide of regret?

I stride towards them, conquering my fear
“You are no one: what right have you to jeer?”
They do not answer, and as I draw near
they fade into the mist and disappear.