a tempting path presents itself
yet we turn away, uncertain of the
destination, the difficulty of the route,
a small blockade perhaps,
tangled foliage and a sign of trampling
we wonder who has gone before
and failed, so we stand still,
neither moving forward, to east or
west, nor backwards, as the rain falls
around us and our shoulders weep
we should have moved, but
we did not.
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