Voices

he had a long, lonely night ahead waitin' for June.
then among the leaves near an orphan's home
a piece of paper caught his eye,
and he stooped to pick it up with trembling hands.
and as he read the childish writing, the old man began to cry,
'cause the words burned inside him like a flame.

"whoever finds this, I love you!"
"whoever finds this, I need you!"
"i ain't even got no one to talk to!"
"so, Whoever finds this, I love you!"
whoever finds this i love you, mac davis

my inner voices spoke to me again. i shivered as i listened to them. i seem to be talking to myself much too often nowadays. too many thoughts. one gave me advice that i did not want to hear but i need to hear it. another told me to plunge ahead and just do regardless of the protests around me. life isn't that great anymore when you are offered too many choices. and none of which you can follow. wholeheartedly. each is drowning out each other's voice to talk to me, to make me go the way they directed. i am confuse. undecisive. the back of my mind, it should be done this way. but deep in my heart, it forbids. now i am left with the final move. that is to take it further into action. nothing is considered done unless you put it into action. i ponder. that moment of silence to make the decision. to carry out the action and not look back with regrets of the decision i need to make now. that moment.