The End of the Road

When the scenery never changes,

and the road never stops,

where reality gets dull,

and daydreaming an illusion,

and the mind travels too far ahead,

anxious to know where the road leads,

but having no destination in mind,

and a little voice that is to quiet,

pointing out other roads to try,

but this road will lead to great things,

due to a road sign that promises such,

and thus the road forever goes on,

and the scenery never changes,

except for billboards with hallow images,

and scribbled on signs every five miles

is a hollow promise that states,

that at the end of the road,

it will all be worth it.

But yet nobody ever questions,

why this road should be followed,

and for all anybody knows,

and the end of this road,

might be nothing but a broken bridge,

with smashed cars far beneath it.

Normal Way

My thoughts of the future,

lay uncertain and obscene,

with dreams of success,

weighed against,

the lack of knowledge,

of how to succeed,

in what I love,

for a chance to live,

the life I always wanted,

the beginning is rocky,

and I’m afraid of failure,

but I know if I don’t try,

I’ll never know for certain,

and instead of chasing dreams,

I’ll live a life more normal,

with work and marriage,

and die a normal death,

and be stuffed in a coffin,

and buried in a graveyard,

where my body will allow,

bugs to survive,

while I decompose,

in a normal way,

until my body,

has been eating away,

and relatives,

ceased to come visit,

and generations pass,

and I’ll be forgotten,

in a normal way.