I walked barefoot on the pathway of life
When I came upon a crossroad;
And at its sight, I let out a sigh
Of sadness and displeasure
For now, I must make a choice

The crossroad looked like many before it
One path was full of light and color
With many leaves falling on the soft green grass
And the other was dark and cold
With many rocks and fallen trees that covered the walkway;

I looked at both and grew quite distressed
Because neither are as they appear;
In past experience, I have taken both
At different times for separate occasions;
Both were quite painful to walkthrough
And ended up making me regret my journey
in life;

The soft grass would ease my feet
Of their burden and pain
But it would make them soft and
Easy to tear and bleed and cause
Me to stop more frequently causing
My journey much delay;

The rocks would bring me
Much pain and make my journey slow at the beginning
But my feet would harden after a short while and
I'd be able to walk with much ease;
But the cuts and bruises still would remain
And I would end up messing my feet up
For the rest of my life.

Both have their benefits
But they also have their consequences
One to punish the weak
And one to punish those who think differently;
So, in the end, I will be in pain from
The decision that I will make;

I tire of making decisions
For no matter how long I ponder
I always seem to make the wrong one;
So this crossroad is no different from the rest
And thinking about it makes no difference
Because I'll make the wrong decision and
Mess things up for myself but,
Alas, I will still sit and think about which course is best;

It might take a second, minute, hour, day or year
To come to a decision that I believe best suits me;
It would be faster and easier to come to a verdict
If I wasn't without a companion and by myself;
Thinking of this choice will take all my thoughts
But for right now I'm too tired and
I think that I will lay down
In hopes that my next breath is my last one

Here at the crossroad, I lie
Dreaming of what would become
If I chose one path over the other;
I have a tough choice before me,
Shall I stay or shall I go?

But only time knows when I'll pick between those roads,
So I must wait until my mind is made up;
But truth is, I wait secretly with much hope,
That death will find me before I choose
So I don't make the wrong choice
And look back with regret at that decision I made
At that crossroad that once stood before me.

Pitter, patter, splat, splatter.
Mad as a lost hatter.
Swirling around the voice of voice.
Where has his meaning gone?
It slipped down his throat,
Escaped having only filth.
Palms out!
Eyes closed
As his world crumbles
By his touch.

He feels the spiral of song,
Enchanting his heart with hope.
The words dig in dangerously
Criticize this soul,
But this beauty is what is left.

He dares not fight,
Craves only admiration.
Whickering comes the stifled laugh
Mocking his existence.
Another crossroad overcrowded
With souls being sold.
For?
Peace
Love
Survival.
Like him, some so desperate
For the trade
in hopes new hell
Will be better than old.
All that is wanted is an end.

Standing in the middle of the crossroad
As cars whizzed by,
I thought, wasn’t it so easy to die?
There’s a ton of ways to try,

But none of them were on my mind–
At least I hope they’re somewhere I can’t find.

But not gonna lie,
To tell you honestly,
If I were to die,
I’ll do so nobly.

Ever since you left
I’ve been wondering
what it’d be like if we
were just parallel lines
never destined to meet
instead of two rusted cars
with broken brakes at a
crossroad without signage.

no one is subscribing
to the universal affection
draining subconscious ailment
that needs no treatment
quaking with fear
shaking with revulsion
looking to prolong
an hour, a minute
stretching one second
into ten seconds
where are we going,
past the streetlights
the crossroads
the commotion
inside the canal boat
that surrounds and accompanies
this road -
will it ends one day,
sometimes, somewhere
and brings an end
to the entire's generation
guilt and disease?

Love is the crossroads of two garden paths
The thing about loving is that it is selfless
I will want to love you more and think of myself less
So I choose to walk your path and tend to your beautiful flora
While I forsake my own in your love and care
It is you and I who decide when we wilt and when we flourish

But will I let it wilt in the end?