The Paths

I perched myself down to meditate

on the stoop of our shed

overlooking the freshly cut lawn

breathing nature in

absorbing emotion.


My mind marveled while

I grumbled of the foredoom

of fourth quarter;

Three bio labs, Latin test;

how others have it easy.


I pondered my future;

The Two Paths.

Worldly or Spiritual,

to vanish in obscure oblivion, or

to change the world.


Married or single;

doctor or lawyer;

engineer or inventor;

priest or religious;

visionary or romantic;


Or someone who DOES something.

About wars fabricated inside moonless minds

skeletal starvation and poverty,

government corruption and conspiracies;

Money is the god of all.


What of the tranquil domestic life,

America and Democracy?

Yet are we to ignore the violence,

the manipulative media,

the real rulers of America?


Am I to exist passively,

lost in the cycle of life?

Succumb to material things,

passions, glorified sin 

of psudo-society.


The intellect has fled

that material brain, and

I reconsider the significance

of bio labs and exams.

How will I be remembered?

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741