Each road you take comes to a fork
and both new paths look much the same
To left, to right which one to walk.
Which of the two will win the game.
Unless you’re blessed with second sight
you will not know which path to choose.
An even chance you’ll get it right.
You must decide you can’t refuse.
You find it harder to decide
each time you’re forced to make a choice.
Perhaps the fates are on your side
and you will find cause to rejoice.
This is the only game in town
and everybody has to play.
Some will go up and some go down.
Along life’s path they make their way.
Don’t be afraid to walk alone
and choose the less well trodden path.
Your future must remain unknown
so step out bravely come what may.
Ah Ivor! Which path to take, I'll be a ploddin the well trodden! I think? *10*! ! ! Thad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Having read this Ivor, I'm feeling footsore and weary. Ha! I think now though I am going backwards down well trodden ways somehow. Lovely poem, lovely flow. Great read. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX