Scraped Knees & January Hopes

You tell me.


If you could've taken just one step to the side- would it have all been alright?



Hardened rain like tiny beads battered against my face like the overused line goes.

It's one giant mistake.

Thats fit perfect, for a tale like this...


Never asking for much,

Always getting used more in return.


Tackling dogs, and wrecking cars-

all just a days work in the life of the wrong path.


Robert Frost was right, just everyone else misread him.

He took the wrong path, the less traveled one was clearly a dead end.

Leading to a life of misery.


I hate. that damn. poem.

If only I had read it right the first time...


February left with a sigh and fell into March.

Here I am, another month has passed-Everything just gets worse.


Like happiness erodes with time.

Never as great as it was the first.

The little things start to matter less and less.


Come to think of it- Robert Frost can go to hell,

With this poem and my lost hopes for a better year,


When all I have realized is both everything and nothing.


That is where you'll find me.

Back at the fork in the road pissed off realizing both ways suck.


So I just won't go anywhere.


This life is inevitable, we can only choose the way we tread ground...

And hope that it's not the wrong side of the sidewalk...