My friend and I were walking along
a sweat-dripping,  suffering path.
So many obstacles had been thrown at us,
only for us to break through them
together, one by one.
We suddenly came along a fork,
gasping for air.
One path was full of footprints.
A sign that many people had gone along
this merry and easy path.
The other path was a dark path.
No footprints were marked on this path.
It seemed dark, hard, stressful.
Each path would only let one person live the path.
So we decided to separate onto our own ways.
My friend chose the dark path.
I chose the light path,
questioning  him about his choice.
He stepped into the path of his choice,
and just before he disappeared,
he simply replied,
"I've come this far, from a miserable start.
I want to end with a satisfying ending."
As I've lived my enjoyable life,
his last words pounded against my head,
waiting to ge figured out.
Now, as it has come to the end of my life,
I understand more than anything else in the world,
while he celebrates how his hard work
paid off throughout his life.
While he proudly shows his scars
to show how much he's been through.
While he celebrates how he's risen
from the "miserable start"
to the most highest spot he could ever be.
Pure joy written all over his face.
While I stand in the exact same place
as where I had started on my path alone.
I'm not satisfied.
I've wasted my life.