Sometimes, in the snakes and ladders of life,
It seems as tho things are ruled by a throw of the dice
Sometimes it's not even me who throws it
But I deal with the outcomes
Even tho I can see hints of other ones, hidden deep within the blinding reflections
Softer, gentler outcomes maybe
Less defined
Less rigid

Soon, it will be time for me to pick up my own dice
And throw it
And live with my own outcomes