Coins

Exteriors are made
To lead you on.
They present false shades
That are often wrong.

Interiors are where
Truths make their homes,
Often hidden there,
Under a toughened dome.

Because inside us all,
Exists a coin.
It rises and falls,
When thoughts join.
The coin is flipped
In the case of contradiction.
It can be biased, to one side tipped,
But no matter what, it keeps on flippin'.

It is propelled by
The many emotions,
Which through our head fly,
That come with each notion.

It flips and flips,
We see it in our eyes.
Each decision nips
At a result we only surmise.

Heads... or tails,
It can only be one.
One prevails,
The other is done.

But in the end,
We know the decision isn't fair.
It's all pretend,
Not like the coin's unflawed pair.

The decisions we make
Are not made by destiny,
But rather the knowledge we take
And apply to conditions presently.

So put down your coins,
Because nothing is chance.
Everything is choice,
That, which is told through your voice.

Some things will happen
For unexplained reasons.
But more often than not
It's because of what you believe in.