Remember that poem “oh the places you’ll go?”

Where we will end up really nobody knows.

At each fork in the road we take one less worn,

And hope to high heaven our dreams won’t be torn.

Planning ahead far as the eye can see

Doesn’t take away the dread of uncertainty.

We don’t know the future. We cannot forecast

The weather even, as shows our past.

The only way to live is the same as to walk,

One step at a time, following our talk,

And remembering to pause every mile or two

to smell the roses and appreciate the view.


About The Lost Poet

I write because I find inspiration. It is my hope that through my writing some connections may be felt. Everything I write comes from my experiences with life, and with the people that I love. I try to remember to see myself in everyone, and everyone in myself.
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