POEM # 13
WHICH ROAD DO I TAKE?
Two roads divided by one toll booth,
My feet no longer spray of my youth.
One road new modern shinny and bright,
The other old and worn filled with blight.
My eyes traveled down the road for miles,
Suddenly what I saw, brought wide smiles.
Far down one road, a little man with a goat,
He would tug and pull, in his firery red coat.
My decision made to view this tug of war,
All because of what this little man wore.
The other road in my travels will have to wait,
If I travel this way again, I will open it’s gate.
Written by Carl Mann