Some people find out they are lost and they long to be

what a wonderful thing it would be to know the way.

Some people find it easier to follow the road that they are

on and not make choices concerning the proper way.

In a state of terror they hate themselves and long for a good decision.

If it could just come to them, what to believe in; which way to go.

It doesn’t come so easily. You must go to it. It does not come to you.

We will be lucky to grow old. They say the good die young.

Some people find it easier to go to the other side, for then there are no

More choices to make. There is no adequate answer or direction.

We hear the warble of the distant bird and dream we will know the way.

Poets, politicians, preachers, and philosophers are drunk on on their symbols.

As if they knew the way. They wave their flags and pull everyone on to their

Road, insisting that they know the way. They have come to inform us of

What is beautiful and what is right, but the dinner is burning in the pot.


About m.a. wood

writer, thinker, musician, teacher
This entry was posted in poem. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to voting

  1. amabear says:

    some beautiful lines.


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