The Path
Upon two paths so traveled hence
The poet chose the path more dense
But chosen still my own path since
the reading of that poem
And onward traveled I through wood
In search of what was grand and good
But never quite had understood
the path which leads me home
For in the undergrowth remained
The hurts, the sorrows, guilts and pains
That flowed throughout my human veins
and left me feeling numb
Beyond what human words might say
Or even what my heart might pray
At any time or given day
what did my path become
When I but paused my wayward course
Without repentance or remorse
For what had come to be my source
of joyful recompense
Now helps me stay the path I take
And cheers me on each choice I make
To know for sure without mistake
that God's the difference.
God Bless,
Lighthouse Bob
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