Confession: The Choice I Would Never Make

Heavenly choir sings,
And so plays the strings,
As in my ears it rings,
All too true,
It makes me blue.
 
Sometimes, when I hear certain songs,
Even though there's no wrongs,
In my life, or the music,
It gives me a feeling tragic.
 
I feel no bitterness, or resentment,
But this, I lament,
Sometimes when I listen to certain songs,
I get not just butterflies, but also a feeling as if it grabs me like prongs.
 
A feeling...as if I want to pack a bag, and just run...
Run...run...run.
Why do I feel this way?
It's rather difficult to pinpoint, or say....
 
If I left, I would leave a note, and never want to be found,
Coming back, to hang around,
Would be just like moving out, nothing drastic, or dangerous,
Nothing mysterious.
 
I could leave under the cover of night,
I could just walk out that door tonight,
But I know that's not right,
Though, I would never choose this, to not feel this way sometimes, I still have to fight.  
 
I could wear a disguise, set out in the middle of the night, and go to gods-know-where,
Just run far, far, away from here!
I could do odd jobs for people,
Fetching items, traveling with others though dangerous places to protect those people....
 
House-sitting, giving or writing speeches for events, gathering ingredients, creating art and jewelry from nature and found materials,
I could be a traveling bard, and sing with vocals,
But if I go, I would surely be taken, and end up dead,
But if not, I would wish I was dead....
 
If I left, I would leave behind four cats, two dogs, parents, a brother, a step family, and friends,
With my heart, my mind, contends,
But life on the streets will never compare,
To a warm house, good food, and clothing covered in cat hair.