Time, the Only Enemy

April 14, 2011
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At the beginning
Two roads shift,
They do not meet
One filled with trees,
Does that shade me from the pain?
The other just grassy plains,
and yellow-brown fields.
Does that promise a cear path?
No guarentee,
No going back,
One choice,
One life.
The roads come close,
But I cannot see the end.
What happens
When there is a constant reminder of what is real, and what you can have.
Forever wondering what the two roads mean.

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