I'm still in the hall, haven't chosen a door
And it's getting brighter; I see a lot more
But there is a problem: the doors aren't all labelled
And I have to choose as well as I'm able
Shall I pick a safe one which is clearly marked
Or boldly unleash the mysterious dark
As time passes by I had better start knocking
Or I'll start to hear opportunities locking
Through one of doors limps the sad hollow voice
Of someone who made a regrettable choice
I nervously realize that it's essential
For me to exploit my enormous potential
The guidance I got was well-meaning but poor
But if I don't choose I'll be dragged through a door
A sudden idea quells this ominous feeling:
I furtively cut out a hole in the ceiling
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