Demons play in my head suggesting things I should do.
I know they are wrong.
My moral compass guides me.
Certain things are precious and not to be dealt with by man.
At least my compass tells me so.
My compass is getting old,
The parts are starting to rust.
It no longer points the right way.
It has taught me with itís guidance,
But it is telling me Iím on my own.
What to do now?
Follow the direction it is left pointing?
These would be easy, the simplest of solutions.
The other way is overgrown,
The path is rough and uneven.
Without a guide or tool how will I make it?
Comments on this poem/writing:
|shiloh (184.108.40.206) -- Friday, April 30 2010, 07:41 am|
never an easy decision, especially on a road you've never traveled. even after you make a decision, further on you will look back and wonder if it was the right one. you never stop wondring. that's the problem.
i'm here - reach out if you want to.
|Luke Mudge (220.127.116.11) -- Monday, May 3 2010, 02:09 pm|
Follow your heart, it'll always somehow make things seem right, even when everything seems wrong
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