The Path
So many,
So many.....
Countless the number through the ages, who have this worn path trod.
It discriminates not, it holds no distinction between man or woman, or those that have and those that have not.
All start out, end never in sight, with spring in step no matter their condition or age,
All striving in their own way for tomorrow, always tomorrow, that just out of reach thing, the next unseen page.
Across deserts, up hill, always just over the next peak, fording treacherous rivers, wading through slippery streams,searching tirelessly for the means, the way to find themselves, write their own destinies, live their own dreams.
The way has no set route, no beginning, no end. Some fall by the wayside,
Needing to rest, to sleep, some, forever in that spot, having found their home, will reside.
While others, rise to take their place or miraculously re-awaken,
So many......
So many,
Countless the number through the ages, who chose to tread this path…….
The one..... Less taken.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2010
About this poem:
No prizes for guessing where the inspiration for this one came from.....Hope you enjoyed it all the same.....Andrew.....xxx
Comments (18)
thanks for sharing
Steve
An epitome of poetry. thank you.
Kickit.