I want to be the road less traveled by

Followed by only deer or the curious runner

I want to be the one that is soft to the touch

That springs under your foot, energetic and green

I want to be the one that no one controls

Covered in root and branch, unruly and wild

Yet I am the one already traveled

Followed by the masses or the tired runner

I am the one that has been beaten down

That doesn’t move as you step, hard and grey

I am the one that is controlled

Any debris swept aside, clean and flat

And sometimes a spark of green

A tiny weed, a dandelion

Sprouts from the rocky, barren earth

And I wonder

How long it will last