In the middle
The road split before her eyes
Afraid of leading in demise
Stuck in the middle…not knowing for how long
Listening to her own song
To the left
Wildflowers’ and berries grew alongside a foggy path
Butterflies fluttered in a wrath
Music spun bittersweet notes of freedom
Singing a song of newfound wisdom
To the right
Perfectly cut stone paved the way
Sidewalks and streetlamps lit up like day
Music played but not her taste
The smell of ammonia moved alongside the heaves
Its vapor has withered the leaves
In the end
Her song will play the loudest
Her smile will stretch the longest
Her heart will beat the strongest
Her love will be the truest
Her soul will be the fullest
