Two roads diverged from the traffic light
And I am happy I had a choice,
The first turns left for creatures of night,
Towards the rich and slums out of sight
Where girls become silent; men the voice;
The second goes straight with traffic hymns
Where streets are barren but just as filled,
Until the light, the road only dims
And all the dreams are turned into whims,
Where seeds are gambled, where earth is tilled;
The time you have is the red get green,
When many take the obvious turn
But I believe the embers eighteen
And go where victory hides unseen,
Unveiled, only when enemies churn
The ocean of milk that is the road
And all it needs is a will to walk;
The narrow path, sure, which fruits the sowed
But in the end; at ultimate code,
First road is silent; second all talk.
~Ajay
20/3/19
A
/N- Written in the rhyme scheme of Frost's 'The Road not taken'
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seaboyman ~ poetry
Poetry~ is that not the perfect visual image of life and death / a fish flapping on the carpet and a fish not flapping on the carpet ~
