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Aug 2014
I walked down a trodden path one day
It lingered alone, seemed to lead the right way.
After awhile I knew I'd been fooled
For every flower I touched there was a thorn, it was cruel.
I tried to turn back but to no avail,
And the longer I went on the more I grew frail.
The occasional passerby would approach and then fade,
Each face fading with next - just as frayed.
It was lonely and cruel - what place was this?
Signs would caution: The reward might not be worth the risk.
I grew angry and removed as I trudged along,
One foot in front of the other, this was now where I belonged.
My zeal came and went like the sun and the moon,
I might as well make the best in this place of ruin.
And finally as I neared the end,
A fellow approached me, extended a hand.
I asked him of what I had just suffered, this strife
He said, "Ah, my friend, it is what we call life."
J
Written by
J  Chicago, IL
(Chicago, IL)   
296
   SPT
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