Poem #12

Familiar.

Two roads did diverge in that wood of yellow.
He was correct.
All along I thought it was a metaphor.
Silly me.
To think I over thought it.

I sat there thinking about which path to actually take.
The one untrodden.
You would think he would make it more obvious.
Identical paths.
In the end I took the path on the left.

I followed it along and felt unhappy suddenly.
The path was yellow.
Yet had no scarecrow joining me to sing along the way.
I looked down.
The path was white and the yellow wood reflected a gold shimmer.

I kept going only to find myself unhappy once again.
I was at a fork.
It looked exactly like the diverge I was at before.
It was the same one.
The path led me in a circle and I feel stupid.

I took the path on the left instead.
Followed it with glee.
Things seemed so familiar that it made my stomach churn.
The path still shimmered.
It gave me comfort that something different might be beyond the bend.

I found myself at the diverge again.
Fuck that poem.
I have learnt from my mistakes and became a better person.
I don't need you.
I felt comfortable at that point with my decision.

I smiled, and took the path on the left.