The Road of Me

One day I found a road unknown,

Covered with weeds and trees half-grown.

It seemed to wind beyond my sight,

So curious I followed nigh.

Upon that wandering midday walk,

A stranger stopped me just to talk.

He gestured over to his side,

Where a field did fallow hide.

And being younger he, then I,

He queried of me for its times.

He wondered if I could recall,

If there'd been something there at all.

I stared at him in disbelief,

It felt to me I saw a thief.

But then I stopped and wondered if,

Maybe I was too hard on him.

So I replied a question in kind,

I asked him of the earlier times.

Do you remember the fair grounds?

All those sights smells and sounds?

Do you recall with my same clarity,

Back when things were fair to me,

Running through the barns and tents,

Or climbing over the worn down fence?

Do you recall the place it was,

When everyone just came because?

Do you still hear the children laughing,

Through the fairway 'twixt the crafting?

I remember well those things,

I recall the joys they'd bring.

Would you believe these empty grounds,

Are still haunted by those sounds?

He smiled politely and stared at me,

He did not know it was plain to see.

I bid farewell and wandered off,

Behind me I could hear him scoff.

I walked the trails I used to take,

And cried my memories awake.

It's all I could do to sit and stare,

'Cause once upon a time sat there,

A great big tree bearing pears,

We used to climb it just to share.

Deeply saddened I left the field,

The road it seemed had more to yield.

It wandered back to where I grew,

Since I was but a lad of two.

Chores I'd once left there to do,

Were long past my chance I knew.

They fixed the windows and the door,

I suppose it doesn't leave me sore.

But there you see my work's undone,

Or rather you would if my well were run.

But they smashed that hole I dug,

Fifteen days of work they shrugged.

And that side of the house is sided now,

In the pretty vinyl color they picked out.

It's not my home that's plain to see,

To love this house just isn't in me.

So the road wound deeper on,

I followed it with heart a ton.

Finally it stopped somewhere,

I didn't know and didn't care.

Looking up I saw a flash,

And heard an all resounding crash.

Now I'm awake safe in bed,

But for my heart it must be said.

I can't help but think I've been replaced,

By someone with my worn out face.

I feel like I am growing old,

Like my story's fully told.

That can't true for I am young,

My vigor's coursing through my lungs!

Yet looking back I see it all,

And I can't help but to recall,

The younger man upon the road,

Whose ignorance my sorrow sowed.

Am I the generation who,

Forgot what made and kept me true?

I see the news from here in bed,

Another disaster and some's dead.

What was the road they might have walked,

That I like others soon forgot?

Whose memories have I destroyed,

With what I thought were idle toys?

Was what they built torn down as well,

Or were they the stranger I tried to tell?

With that I feel my soul resolve,

My world 'round sadness won't revolve.

I refuse to let past roads define,

The man I am in coming time.

The day i die no one will wonder,

If I walked their road up yonder.

I will leave my marker on,

Every road I ever trod.

I won't let the passing tense,

Be my only evidence.

Even if that road's behind me,

I am still the one defining,

Who I am today and then,

Who I'll be when I go down that road again.

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