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" A boy walking down a lane,
pondering over his troubled past.
Trying to find a thought that's sane,
And knowing it's his last.
A Fork in the road coming near,
But still he continues straight.
For his head is clogged from ear to ear,
With lifes' gargantuan weight.
He knows his road is about to end,
And the end he wants to embrace.
For he feels theres not enough meds to mend,
The horror that has crossed his face.
But then he sees a small bird in a nest,
With wings that cannot fly.
Odds against it trying its' best,
To ascend and soar in the sky.
The boy watches as the bird plummits,
And says goodbye to the nest.
The boy thinks his flight will never summit,
And that the bird has failed the test.
So he turns back to the trail,
Which he has reached the cease.
He feels his flight as well has failed,
And is ready to go down with peace.
Standing next to the trench,
Inbetween the two roads.
Eyes closed and his teeth wrenched,
About to enter his new abode.
In his head he counnts 1-2-3,
And feels sweat run through his hair.
But then he hears the fluttering of wings,
And sees the bird in air.
It flys higher and better than the rest,
Through the summer gale,
It is the same bird that fell from the nest,
And lived to tell the tale.
He realizes this isn't right,
Giving in to life and its' toils.
He knows now he has to fight,
Because to the victor go the spoils."