Sep 2014
Is it all the way downhill from here?
Will there ever be a climb;
A challenge that would be fair?
A struggle worth my time.
Did I miss a path that diverged in the woods?
That could have made all the difference?
Or did they pull it over my eyes, the hood
That blinded my sight, steering clear of all the hindrance.
They herded me past those forks
The ride was convenient, all luxury it seemed.
.
.
.
(incomplete)
Will there ever be a climb;
A challenge that would be fair?
A struggle worth my time.
Did I miss a path that diverged in the woods?
That could have made all the difference?
Or did they pull it over my eyes, the hood
That blinded my sight, steering clear of all the hindrance.
They herded me past those forks
The ride was convenient, all luxury it seemed.
.
.
.
(incomplete)
This is a poem that I began writing in 2010. Over the years I've tried to finish it. Now I've realized that finishing this will not only be difficult but also a self-deception. Because no-more am I the person that I used to be.
