Thirteenth poem

I wander down this path and see.
Another choice I need to make.
A split in the road just ahead of me.
Not the first I’ve seen, not the last to be.
And it’s always hard to know which to take.

Sometimes they wrap back up around
Meeting with the other choice.
But some are harder than they sound
And I fear I won’t be found
Before I lose my voice.

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