The Choice

It was a choice

I did not make

Like sitting under a tree

In heavy rain

Or forgetting a name

But hearing the goodbyes

In every departure

And every sunrise

... It was not a choice

But I made it

To take away all future choices

Rainy days next to the bluest sea

And the name that remains uncalled 

For all memories survive sunsets

By choice

August 19, 2018

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2018