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Kyle Mouat Feb 12
Rain falls from up high
On to the leaves of trees;
Drizzling down to the earth,
Nature's shower for the ground;

The cold creates a fog and
Makes the environment damper;
The mixture of cool air floods the lungs,
Gifting a relaxing feeling as it
Courses through the body;

The sun is all but a faded memory,
As grey clouds darken the sky;
A light wind blows through the trees
As the rain becomes a mist;

There is beauty in the cold rainy days,
That few will ever experience;
A pleasure it is to sit alone,
And observe such art before me.
Kyle Mouat Feb 11
I walked barefoot on the pathway of life
When I came upon a crossroad;
And at its sight, I let out a sigh
Of sadness and displeasure
For now, I must make a choice

The crossroad looked like many before it
One path was full of light and color
With many leaves falling on the soft green grass
And the other was dark and cold
With many rocks and fallen trees that covered the walkway;

I looked at both and grew quite distressed
Because neither are as they appear;
In past experience, I have taken both
At different times for separate occasions;
Both were quite painful to walkthrough
And ended up making me regret my journey
in life;

The soft grass would ease my feet
Of their burden and pain
But it would make them soft and
Easy to tear and bleed and cause
Me to stop more frequently causing
My journey much delay;

The rocks would bring me
Much pain and make my journey slow at the beginning
But my feet would harden after a short while and
I'd be able to walk with much ease;
But the cuts and bruises still would remain
And I would end up messing my feet up
For the rest of my life.

Both have their benefits
But they also have their consequences
One to punish the weak
And one to punish those who think differently;
So, in the end, I will be in pain from
The decision that I will make;

I tire of making decisions
For no matter how long I ponder
I always seem to make the wrong one;
So this crossroad is no different from the rest
And thinking about it makes no difference
Because I'll make the wrong decision and
Mess things up for myself but,
Alas, I will still sit and think about which course is best;

It might take a second, minute, hour, day or year
To come to a decision that I believe best suits me;
It would be faster and easier to come to a verdict
If I wasn't without a companion and by myself;
Thinking of this choice will take all my thoughts
But for right now I'm too tired and
I think that I will lay down
In hopes that my next breath is my last one

Here at the crossroad, I lie
Dreaming of what would become
If I chose one path over the other;
I have a tough choice before me,
Shall I stay or shall I go?

But only time knows when I'll pick between those roads,
So I must wait until my mind is made up;
But truth is, I wait secretly with much hope,
That death will find me before I choose
So I don't make the wrong choice
And look back with regret at that decision I made
At that crossroad that once stood before me.
Inspired by Robert Frost`s "Road Not Taken"
Kyle Mouat Feb 11
I sat and stared at the sun
And at its descent I'm stunned,
For it's passing is beautiful
Like sitting through a musical;

A mixture of blue, orange, and yellow
Makes me feel quite mellow,
And as the sun leaves its final scene
It creates a sight to be seen;

But now finally I will sit
Staring at that beautiful sunset;
And I'll shed a tear at its sight
While I say hello to a starry night.
Kyle Mouat Feb 11
Trapped in my thoughts
Dreaming of hopes,
Thinking they'll be caught
Before I reach the death's *****;

Staring at the bright blue sky
And observing the birds,
Wishing I too could fly
But the idea was absurd;

Noticing a girl walk by
Dreaming that we'll be together
And that I'd be one lucky guy,
But I know I can't get her;

Hearing the rush of a stream
And the water hitting the stones,
Wishing that it wasn't a dream
But it was a hope too well known;

I dream of hopes to often
Causing me much pain,
And my mental sanity begins to soften,
From dreaming of things I can't obtain;

I need to stop dreaming
And live the life I was given
Instead of wasting time sleeping
About things that are forbidden;

So I'll start trying to focus
On things that are a bore,
Being rid of this diagnosis
And alas, I'll dream no more;
Kyle Mouat Feb 11
I sat in a green meadow,
Staring at everything pass and go;
I saw the deer run wild and free
And I wished that it could me;

I stared at the grass and how the green
Was a beautiful thing to be seen;
I counted the number of blades
And at the sheer number, I was amazed;

The trees stood tall, strong and still
And their shadows made the ground quite chill;
I sat in their shade and thought of what to write,
On that summer's evening that was so bright;

As I started to write, I felt much peace;
For now, I felt my happiness increase;
And I knew that I never wanted to leave
This dream that I had conceived;

I knew that soon I would have to wake
And be in a world of heartache;
Where the stress overwhelms me,
And where hope's embrace would never be;

But for now, I will sit and write
In the bright sun’s light;
And hearing the rush of a cold stream;
In this place that is, my perfect peaceful dream.
Kyle Mouat Feb 11
I sat broken atop a mountain
Cursing all of the gods
For having me restrained
Against impossible odds;

For having me seek love,
Never to obtain it;
For giving nothing to write of,
And be viewed as a hypocrite;

For needing rejection,
To function in life
To never have the affection
Of caring, loving wife;

For making me soft in heart,
Afraid of the world before me;
Fearful of being torn apart
By some unholy earthly thing;

For having me always laugh
But never feel joyful and reviled
Being a joke on people's behalf,
Yet always having to smile;

Tis the gods that I curse
For my stubborn will and spirit
So that even when it hurts
I'll still be adherent;

For making me a fool
Before all of the earth
For treating me quite cruel
Making me wish I'd died at birth;

For forcing me into solitude
Making me able to see
That I am not being pursued
By those who could love me;

So I sit cursing the gods
Who sit on their thrones so high;
Hoping they'll strike me down
Leaving me up on the mountain to die.
Kyle Mouat Feb 11
The cold reveals the air being taken
By a foreigner who has just awaken;
They hear the rain hitting his tent
And smells an earthly scent;

They pack the tent into a pack
And lifts the heavy load onto their back;
Begins the journey over the mountain
To see what beauties in contains;

The thickness of the fog is great
That it makes it difficult to travel straight;
The rain picks up as the wind blows harder
Which makes seeing difficult for the wanderer;

But the fog clears as the winds die,
The rain calms down as it falls from the sky;
The journeyman sees a clearing close by
And what it reveals could make anyone cry;

Drops rain down from heaven above
To the earth that absorbs it like a sponge;
The grass and trees become greener,
The air and ground grows colder;
Truly a beautiful sight for a traveler’s eyes.
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