The Road

Sometimes it seems the road of disarray
Trespasses through your lawn to your front door
And though you’d glad dismount from this dismay
There seems no way to get to heretofore.
The road ahead, so gloomy, seems engrossed
Cacophonous in signs and sudden turns
Alongside all the tortured and the tossed
You get a glimpse what each in darkness learns.
Pain is a portal and those who persist
Perhaps eventually rest assuaged
Though absent are chortles, day may exist
Where love’s laughter and singing are the rage.
And mayhap the Road was sent by His Hand
To take you through trials, then into His Land.

copyright 2008 by Roadrunner, all rights reserved

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