11 January, 2011

Bifurcated youth

Road split, where to go
like the end of a
branch, where
a branchlet
was chosen.

Cold as ice, we had
to keep moving;
chose we must
or the ending
was chilling.

Left of the bifurcated
road we did go,
knowing full
well, hell
would be

A stream of ice,
or a road of
snow, split
us apart, yes
forked, of our
sliced youth.

copyright d.a.white 2/2010

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