My Road Not Taken

I sat in my seventh grade English class--

A place of joy, safety and the ability to set your subdued voice free.

But no one knew, underneath my superficial smile and a painted mask,

My heart was heavy with the choices I'd made and the person that I failed to be.

 

I thought I could never be forgiven, I thought I could never make amends

I thought that the mistakes I so carelessly consructed

Were the beginning of my painful end.

I sat in a plastic chair and questioned my life, twelve years old, at 7am.

 

My teacher placed a paper on the desk.

One more piece of literature.

One more killed tree.

One more set of circumstances that could never be applied to me.

 

Everyone in the class seemed like perfect pieces of glass

If they ever found out the pain I hid and the things I'd done,

They'd shatter into a billion uneven pieces.

 

I picked up the paper, titled "Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken"

I took a breath, and read the art,

The words I wandered so far to hear, pierced the core of my heart.

And I realized, as my whole life was shaken,:

 

All our choices have two diverging roads,

The one that's hidden and unknown,

And the one that is easy to see.

But once you choose your mysterious poison, you can never relapse.

Everyone makes mistakes; everyone has pain.

Life is simply a bundle of choices, waiting to be made.

And sometimes, we don't know the outcomes of the choices we make

Until we look in the rearview mirror and see our regrets.

We know, as people, who we wish to be.

Sometimes we stumble, sometimes we fall short, and sometimes we succeed.

It's not about the choices we make,

It's our inner struggle to be the person we had always dreamed.

 

I felt the heaviness lift from my soul,

I guess learned what I had always known.

It's okay to make mistakes; it's a part of life,

It just part of the race.

 

So I raised my hand and raised my voice,

I lifted my head, I had made my choice.

No longer would I live in the sorrow of regret

I would live day-by-day and find who I am.

 

And here I am, telling this story with a sigh,

It's been ages and ages since,

My road not taken was simply forgiving myself,

And choosing it has made all the difference.

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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