A road that wasn't taken.
When it's learning how to fly,
One best not be mistaken.
We rode the train we all must ride,
And lacked proper elation.
"Don't go that way - come back inside,"
No sir, this is my station.
Where choice is false and men prove weak,
It's best to hail another.
I'm sorry, friend, I think I've peaked,
You'd best not tell my mother.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this takes life from me.
No comments:
Post a Comment