Alone I stand barefoot on a floor of broken glass.
Two doors across the way in front of me.
One door leads to my salvation, the other quite possibly damnation.
Though neither door is marked, it's true they are unremarkably the same
The choice for me remains all too clear.
Smooth glass on the left, sharp and twisted to the right
I take a breath and step upon the path, blood pouring from my feet.
The pain is somehow sweet, for I see the blood of others gone before.
Persistence in spite of pain brings life's greatest gains, and I smile as light floods through the opening door.
I took the path less traveled as old man Frost would surely agree, and that less traveled path has made all the difference in me.

Crossing the room like an acrobat never touching ground.

Crazy Cat found my lap, landing without a sound.

Kneading my belly, claws in my skin, hurts like hell my little friend.

I grin and bare it, rubbing his head, Sinatra is saying it's time for bed.

He tucks his paws under his chin and casts his blue eyes on mine.

Goodnight, sleep tight, rest in peace baby boy, everything is fine.