Where am I going? Am I going or am I being taken.
There a poem on my wall above my bed… “The road not taken by Robert Frost” . Beds, houses and pillows have changed…the poems been there for close to 10 years now.
“and somewhere ages and ages hence
I shall be saying this with a sigh,
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And I took the one less traveled by
And that made all the difference….”
It gave me hope once…now it looks like a warning.
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