The Road

 Long ago before I was old.

I started down a winding road.

Was not paved in the normal means.

Under my feet were broken dreams.

The bumps were many as I trod along

And while not easy, somehow, I knew its where I belong.

Vines crawled out from the sides

And from their truth I could not hide.

Wrapping tight around my throat,

Trying to cut off any feeling of hope.

Breaking free from their grasp

and finding a tree under which I could rest.

Shutting my eyes so I could sleep.

Dreams of choices I have made and hurt so deep.

When I awake with a start,

The pain pours out from my heart

Onto the road the dreams do go,

Extending ever longer my winding road.

One day soon the road will end

And I will be home with my best friend.