Traveling on a lonesome trip,
There is a road I see,
Abandoned and forlorn while,
Lit by the moonlight’s gleam.
Cruising over the unpaved path,
Guided with high beams,
A car screaming by a vacant fork,
A fork so peculiar to me.

A fork with little options,
But a choice I’m forced to make,
Sitting and pondering in regard,
To which road I shall take.
Rolling the tires forward,
Legs starting to shake,
While thinking rather quickly,
On behalf of my own sake.

I listen to the crunch of,
Pebbles crumbling beneath the tire,
As the car progresses along the road,
While I am growing shyer.
The fork is taunting,
And stakes are higher,
I wish to avoid the paths,
Like stumbling across a fire.

Halting in front of the,
Two separate roads,
Where the choice must be faced,
Where I’ve reached my panic mode.
inching at a snail’s pace,
my verdict begins to show,
As the car takes a turn,
Continuing down the road I chose.