The Road Not Taken.

The Road Not Taken.

A façade, fictitious. An undignified understatement. A scandal, a scare. A hurl that hurt. It led many ways, that path did. A quick rise, a short fall too. It held many a reason to be wary. He’d been warned, umpteen times. Situations like these, they led only one way. One way, which led to another – death. Not of body, but of life. Its essence itself sapped up life in purpose. No one blames a dead fish, no one blames a baby.

“No one blamed you!”, he quirked. Indeed, the road it led only one way. It brought peace, it brought direction. We think it did, or you, per se. It brought temporary happiness, it brought joy for keep’s. It brought flee, it brought itself in chastise of a fee. In beating its only maker, it bit the hand that fed it.

As wonder brings about the takings from the table, it pointed to rote learning, rote behaviourial effects which incessantly comment on its neighbours’. He yelled “Lift Me Up” in hope for a save, but when it went down that path, the other, a road that never was taken. The slave it had become, a sad life they led. A showdown where both love and hate showed no mercy, no fences, no dilemmas, no uncertainties. Only One. The Road Has To Be Taken.