Maybe
In every life there are roads un-taken
Wastelands of Maybe lives
Detritus left scattered in desolate landscapes
Ghosts of bonds snapped in half
Spirits of ideas, half formed, abandoned
Forgotten promises, blowing in wistful winds.
The path followed not always smooth
Travelers often turn to search behind
Remembering happiness carelessly discarded
Some try to return whence they came
But wagons, newly acquired, irrevocably attached
Makes the u-turn un-wieldy.
Regrets, when asked, are none
Only to the deepest self, in darkest hour
Are confessions of things wished un-done or done
Friends better kept, lovers better lost
Secrets never made, values never forgotten
Time spent, not wasted
And yet, still, today is made
The wastelands of tomorrow
Wastelands of Maybe lives
Detritus left scattered in desolate landscapes
Ghosts of bonds snapped in half
Spirits of ideas, half formed, abandoned
Forgotten promises, blowing in wistful winds.
The path followed not always smooth
Travelers often turn to search behind
Remembering happiness carelessly discarded
Some try to return whence they came
But wagons, newly acquired, irrevocably attached
Makes the u-turn un-wieldy.
Regrets, when asked, are none
Only to the deepest self, in darkest hour
Are confessions of things wished un-done or done
Friends better kept, lovers better lost
Secrets never made, values never forgotten
Time spent, not wasted
And yet, still, today is made
The wastelands of tomorrow
posted by Shiny Blue Black at 8:02 PM
6 Comments:
Wow, beautiful poem!! And I thought that my "Of eagles and chickens" poem was cool...Looks like I still have lots to learn from you! :)
I read it again...
This ought to go down in history as a classic.
appreciate the compliments, girl can always use those :)
Nah, nothing to learn here. Just age dear boy.
Age? Are you that old? :)
Just for contrast, this is a personal favourite of mine:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
by Robert Frost (1874–1963)
HS. Not that I think actual age is indicative of much, but I think I am still a couple of years older than you. Can't remember why I thought that.
Tiger
*smile* Yes, that is an oldie and a goodie. Coincidentally one of my favorites. It's the only thing stuck up on my wall in fact.
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