The moment a dream dies in your heart is the death of a future
The future you have given up for another possibility.
They say, take the road less traveled and trod your own trek,
but what if you find yourself lost in the forest of life with none to trod?

How do you know the way you are taking will lead to your garden?
Will you ever smell the roses that color your sole with memories?
Or will your garden be withered with weeds when you finally reach it?
The only color left being the day before you chose the wrong future?