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Crossroads



Red dirt road

scattered with rocks

black asphalt, with a

yellow dashed line

unforseen potholes

along a polished path

two seperate journeys

down the same path

in different ways

tripping over every puddle, but

still getting up again

dancing in the rain,

and out lasting the storms

the sun beats down on the the land we walk

time ages us within,

we grow older than we really are

but there's a child trapped under this skin

modern age

versus

the stone and chisel

so called GQ's gentleman

versus

the knights of the old code

I might be a child of the computer generation

but i prefer my pen and paper

sitting back against a tree in the forest

truth be told

my mind grows old, but

my hearts still young, and

they meet at the crossroads.



Cx Patterson