Author Information
Finding Your Way
Folder:
2009 Poetry
Rusty old bridge going off to nowhere,
rail tracks heading towards the setting sun.
A lonely road it is, filled with despair,
without a smile left when the day is done.
Those who travel this lone and dusty trail,
feel their way along, if reading by braille.
Never let your soul pull you to this end,
one should always be set on their true path.
Finding peace in self, ready to ascend,
with strength in your walls solid with good lath.
True, true, get out from the mess while you can,it's what they call free will. I suppose this separates us from being a part of the animal kingdom.Nice poem Phil, as always.