The Path I Tread

And I'll walk down a familiar path
With a worn out sole and a heavy heart
I'll dream of amends futilely in the midst
And in your faith tightly cleaves.

Distance stretched you from my silence
In desolation ignite your absence
You're stapled on my wishful thoughts
Etched gravely with iron-wrought.

A fork stuck in the path I tread
I could have never understood, nor judged, nor expected.
Still I endure, but severely loath
And wrote another sad senseless ode.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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