Two paths conjoined at time’s own feet

Make opposite what we entreat.

Ever-present, never both,

Abstaining: choosing just the same.

Though life is not a game.

The fork divides the mind in two.

The knife divides the heart.

The body holds our sentient

From tearing it apart.

The hand delivers brain’s extent;

The foot guides what we see.

And though we roam in liberty,

Our soul is far from free.

A fork is more a mental tool,

Causing our minds to choose.

If nothing’s truly ours to own,

We have nothing to lose