I stand at a crossroad, looking both ways.
One road is used, familiar, most go that way.
The other, overgrown, strange. Alien.
I look at the signs, hoping to find something, anything!
People pass me, walk by, going on the beaten path, yet I still remain at the crossroad.
I want to follow, to be the same, but something holds me back.
I want to go back, but I can't. I've seen things.
I've heard things, on the TV.
Destruction, death, tears.
I can't go back, never!
So I look ahead, at the crossroads.
They seem to loom over me, even though I stand on them.
Someone taps my shoulder, "Are you gonna stand around all day? " he asks, glaring. He taps his watch, "You're running out of time."
I look again, at the crossroads. And I step onto the unused road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very intense, indecisiveness, wanting what others all have to some extent, yet wanting so much more. Finally realizing time is running out you opt for the least traveled path and go exploring freely. Great poem, expressive self-imagery! 10! Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn