Pathways

At least once in everybody’s life you can see a pattern,
A path that seems inevitable through the immediate future.
It can twist and turn like a deer trail, narrow and lined with dark trees,
Or it can be straight as an arrow with no deviations, stinging when it pierces flesh.

My trail is one of curves, sudden turns, and lots and lots of hills,
Straight up and steeply down, with no rest in between,
Like a roller coaster ride with shoddy restraints that never ends,
With a muggy heat and an intense crimson glow to the sky above.

A disgust for those around you is not conducive to relationships,
So with a nose filled with the reek of alcohol and discrimination,
I feel angry tears of disappointment flow down my face,
To mingle with the bitter drags of the burning cancer stick.

One day in this life I will have what I want, what I strive for,
And that’s happiness in the cushion of love that surrounds me.
Material goods do not stroke your hair when you’re upset,
Nor do they give you random kisses of gratitude and then flutter away.

Once upon a time a girl with godawful red sparkly shoes
Followed a yellow brick road and found her home at last,
So skip along this path I will, striving just to simply “be good,”
And find a rainbow to scamper along to the shining pot of gold at the end.