Life hasn't been seen
At the age of sixteen.
Yet decisions must be made
Before the choices can be weighed.

Passion or practicality?
Desire or actuality?
One or the other: no in between.
Think it out well for haste is a fiend.

I long to be Jane Eyre
Making decisions where everything ends fair.
Perfect for me and no one else
Demands for me, no one tells.

But this I can't see
Selfish I refuse to be.
It will will work out-I'm sure

In my favor though?

That I can't procure.