That Uncertain Feeling
So, you see a golden fleece,
snagged, hanging fire,
luminescent and inviting
on a fence of barbed wire.
Would you take it to your heart,
grasp it, reach for it,
or recoil for fear of laceration,
of pain, of expectation deficit?
Here lies the timeless dilemma:
if love does gloriously bloom,
will friendship bite the dust,
consigned unto it's doom?
In this paralysing conundrum
there lies my golden fleece,
a prison of uncertainty
with no sign of release.
How can we be sure
in resolve we can defeat it?
If we can have the cake
and ultimately eat it?
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