I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken
Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.
I started on the wide road with all the other souls, steered left and right by some invisible driver.
My thoughts were not my own.
Everyone seemed in step but me
Everyone seemed to hear commands that were easy for them while I
Well I walked to the beat of my own drum
And it never matched
Step by year by age I was the odd one out
Still on the wide path but on the margins of life
Forced participation if only to appear to match their beat
I drowned out my singular sound with alcohol and blurred its beat with smoke
I thought to leap from this path that now trampled me
Crushed my soul
To stop the drum altogether.
It would not be stopped
the beat that moves me away from the crowd
to a narrow path.
Fewer people tread here but those that do have survived as I did
Realizing they are in but not of this world
We follow the Word and the Light here, each walking to our own drum and an Eternal beat
And it has made all the difference