The Road of Life

It's like it doesn't matter,

It's like none ever cares,

Like a dream that slowly shatters

Until it disappears.

It's like my life's all chatter:

Chaos that no none shares.

Nothing but a thorny flatter,

Stain with deceptive air.

It's a disgusting odor

Worse than a street side toad:

You never want to bother,

But still must walk the road.

It's a bird without feather:

Strong but with no abode.

Without the chance it needs,

There's no use knowing the code.

It's a piece of hardened rock

Hardened from a lump of mud,

After burning round the clock,

It changes with a thud.

Hardened with years of pain,

The chain, the cane, the strain, the stain;

But with one heavy pour of rain

It turns to mud again.

It's a mirror on the wall:

It shows you who you are.

It shows you you've grown tall,

But it also shows the scar.

Shout at it with your all,

It shouts back louder, by far.

Stand before it when you fall,

The scene is quite bizarre.

There's never an outcome,

You can just run along.

It makes you very lonesome

But it keeps you from being strong.

You can fake it all you want,

But you know it's just pretence.

You never say you "can't"

But you know of its presence.

The pain is always there,

Wether or not you care.

You can break free temporarily

But it never disappears.

That's just what it is,

Stinging as a knife.

Pain is all that's visible

On the road of life.