I tried to walk my parents’ road,
Thinking they’d know what’s best for me,
But could not justify the load
Nor do things I did not believe.

I walked my generation’s road,
Thinking it’d be what’s best for me,
Until discovering that their load
Was but a masked conformity.

I took an independent road,
Thinking I’d sense what’s best for me,
And followed intuition’s load
Beyond accepted sanity.

I found myself upon a road,
A quiet road that carried me,
Unburdened me of all my load
And all my thoughts of what should be.

I realize now my life’s a road,
A road upon an inner land,
That cannot predefine its load,
And where it goes is where I stand.