The Road Most Taken
Fonderulo sauntered the broken streets of Brooklyn
With as much confidence as the first day of school
His pale extremities hit the blistering wind with every step
Slowly but surely he did not win the race
No the hares of the morning bell chimes championed with gold
Physically he had no idea
The mad hatter would be proud
Though mentally his mind saw itself wondering through the roads taken most
Never those taken less
For he was not looking towards newly paved streets or virgin territories
He was looking for inspiration
An upbringing of his soul
Through hell
And down the alleys of grotesque amusement
Past reality
And down the throat of a person for which he was not yet acquainted
The homeless begged as dogs at the dinner table
And the drunks trudged into the new day
The dimmed light bulbs of drowning moral standings incited past urges
Focusing on the present infliction
Fond stepped another second into life
And what seemed to be a million more
Musing on the innocence of those who fear and cower at the hand of difference
The closest bench relaxed the bundled man as much so a pub calms a long day’s stress
Though indifferently the man whimpered to himself
For he was the coward
He sorrowed