done. (a acrostic poem)

A fork stands atop a gravel road, near mountains. The tines are touching the tiny gravel beneath them. A few cars and a couple of fences can be seen in the distance, lining the road.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names… Well, names can hurt. Sometimes they can leave a more lasting scar than a physical injury ever could.

a fork in the road actually represents five choices. We can go forward in one clear direction or the other. We can go back the way we came. We can sit right where we are and remain comfortable in our ignorance. Or we can blaze our own trail through the wood.

in me there is more than what you see. All that I am, all that I long to be, all that I aspire to, all that I was made to be. me.

I’m done with the philosophy. I have no more to say. I guess that I will just stop thinking and go and start my day.

 



~ elr

 




I just found these four consecutive posts on my Facebook account from March 15th 2011. I was surprised that no one noticed, or at least commented on, the secondary message that was shared through them.

Yeah, I was having a bad day.


Image: ID 182524788 © Joshua Daniels | Fotolia

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