Note:  This is some random crazy stuff an old dude said to me on a bus and does not constitute an opinion of the artist.  I just wanted to share.

"Boy, never run backward
Through a cornfield
Without your overalls on...
Unless you have a *** of warm butter."

Heave **! Your cry astounds
Flummoxing your enemies ashore
Debonaire you brandish pistol and sword
Cutting down resistant scallywags

Thy treasure shall be mine!
You dash haphazardly between slashes
Excitement and *** course through
Fueling you to victory

Imposing is thy stance!
Booted foot on stack of cannon *****
Actioned-packed adventure
As you reave and raid the seas

Your adventure keeps me alert
But my ship's an iron beast of land
I think of daring combat
And your exploits give me hope

I load my rifle in hot anticipation
Prepared to write my own adventure
The giant steel hatch lowers
And hot iron rips through me

My adventure ends prematurely
My *** is without excitement and masks pain
A hospital bed now serves as my galleon
Your book by my bedside, untouched

[you] sat on a park bench
Thunderclouds surround [your] head
[you] glare harshly at passersby
None above [your] wrathful glance
The darkest storm withers
And yields to fogs of gray
As [you] eclipse once sunny skies

"Hey [you]"
Squeeks the smallest of girlish voices
"What. Do. You. Want, small one?"
[you] wheeze through gritted teeth
"Why do [you] look so grumpy?"
Elicits green eyes between blonde pigtails
"Buzz off you nosy mouse! [i'm] grumpy
Can't you see that!?"

"Why so grumpy, it's a lovely day"
[you] cross [your] arms defiantly
"Lovely?  Hah!  Dumb little girl"
Her face scrunches up
"I'm not dumb"
[you] turn your face away
To cast [your] glance
At other poor happy victims

"Life's pretty good, I think."
As she opens candies wrapped
"Who made you an exp..."
As [you] try to finish fiery words
She places chocolate in [your] mouth
Brown smear across [your] cheek
A moment hangs pregnant in the air
The building of a storm

Seconds drag through eternity
A twitch at corners of [your] lips
But a little girlish gap-toothed grin
Drains [you] of feelings so hostile
As brutal youthful honesty
breaks foul moods, and makes [you] smile

Mr. Frost, so prolific that you are
I was hoping that you could advise
For I find myself in a yellow wood
And I too am but just one traveler
My two feet can only tread in one direction

And I long to leave a black boot mark
While I continue down the right path
Leading me so expertly to destiny
But much like you, obstacles arise
But unlike you, my path further divides

Where you stood before a fork
I now spy a great and twisted rake
That fills me with impending dread
Paths varied in their wear and tear
From paved to grassy, or overgrown

Mr. Frost, here is my dilemma
You chose the path less traveled
And it made all the difference in your life
But how can one traveler ever know
Which specific path for them is right?