Several roads I could have selected, through

The grey wooded world in front of me

The blue, the red, the yellow, and the green

I shortlisted and I finally took the yellow one.

The yellow road seemed leisurely and easier

Well-laid, grassy, groomed and well trodden

Little did I realise, and never pondered the fact

That anything which is easy gets tougher at last.

While other tracks turned grassier and greener

With diligent pursuers digging and building up  

My well-tailored road needed little to be done

And that was how I chose the yellow one.

Thinking back perhaps I was wee bit clever

Than the lads pursuing the same wooded world

I was soon lost in a trap of made-up images

Those distracted me from my chosen path.

I had travelled far not knowing, how one yellow

Road led to a second yellow, how the cobwebs trap

The unaware; my choice in the wood was open

To question, by habit I took the wrong picking.

I tried relentless to reverse the effect, thinking

I was doing enough to overturn the decisions

Now I know I didn’t try enough, wasn’t the best

I could; and I regret I chose the yellow route.

I must admit that all pursuers had not succeeded

Even if they chose the blue, or the red; may be

Like me they all regret their choices; who could

Deny that we chose life in a pre-destined way.