Chosen Paths
There’s a road that winds around mountains not seen by all
Embankments to where you could and many did fall
Misunderstood by the town folk for being quiet and withdrawn
Guard dogs and spiked iron fences surround your lawn
They see a glimpse of you on occasion behind the weeping willow
No one knows why you sleep on a tear soaked pillow
You would have died, set yourself free but a survivor lived inside
So many paths filled with dry creeks and thorny vines so you hide
You find some peace at night when shadows become your friend
poetry and song you keep in your soul accepting it's not the end
You find beauty in isolated wonders and deserted places
Never having to share the pain that’s worn by many faces
By Sheila
