Left Or Right? Such A Plight!

Every day we go about our bay and have to say which way we want to go and come what may, let things fall where they lay. Still have to go one way. What is it I'm trying to say today at my bay?

To get up or not.
Think about that a lot.
But it is an easy one,
Off you run.

Eventually anyway,
As sometime that day,
Off you must go,
Before there she does blow.

Leave early or late.
Such a tough fate.
But if it is the latter,
"You're fired" may end up on your platter.

Of course could be slick,
And call in sick.
Then go all hot to trot.
May or may not get caught.

But as you look,
There at your nook.
One second earlier you find,
You'd have a flat behind.

That bus would have got you,
As away it flew.
Maybe you're brain,
Boarded the lazy train,

To keep you safe.
Or to make things chafe.
Or maybe you look into it,
Thinking you would have got hit.

When a passerby,
Would give a cry.
Saving you,
From a flat view.

Either way,
Come what may,
There you are,
Still on par.

The fork in the road,
Becoming a load.
Choosing your mode.
Don't squash a poor toad.

And that just came out as the cat let his mind linger about that fork thing and away the words did ring. Damn, thinking too much today. I need to put zombie feet on display. Did the right choice for you come to pass? It must have, as you visited my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.