The Path

There was a path of thorns and a path of flowers The flowers were so close I could almost touch them Smell their sweet aroma and see their petals of color And feel the sun pecking over the path Yet I could not take it Forced to the needles I was Dark sky's above Red sorrowful path trailing behind in resent and remembrance of the choice Pain in every step The weight of everything pushing down and the pins pushing in me Thunder and lightning struck Wet and lonely, I was tossed in the storm Then it was over The storm had ended Yet my choice stayed with me In wonderence of what I may had remembered instead If I took the flowered path Fighting against the one who pushed me into the path of needles and thorns Instead of being dragged