Stones like jewels glistened
Down a road that should never be walked
I found everything i was looking for
I found everything that hurts me
Branches offered poisoned apples
Poison that ignited a fire in my blood
Ihauntsquirrels
The way in which, i walk in line. i stay so fine, inside the lines.
Lexi
destiny, choosing and walking. picking a destination in life. making a choice. moving forward. to walk the path of the righteous is a long hard path but full of reqrd and merit. worth the journey.
sonny
A walk way of insanity, wich i lead my my recovered dreams which forth, forward.
Lexi
twisted and muddy
polish my bones
as I walk with bloody feet
towards the light
beauty in a tear drop
flooding the world with satisfaction
broken down mustangs
linger with their skeletons
telling us where they’ve been
Ali
The emancipation of life through my dream kept me satisfied and recharged through the remainder of my days.
Rick Everett
As I walked along, feeling the icy autumn wind stab its fingers into my neck and face, I realized that this was truly my heaven. Staring up at the cold grey sky, I blinked as a raindrop smacked into my face, leaving me realizing that nothing would ever be as perfect as this.
Matt Frost
the path that i took to get here was joyous
fv
the path was long and cold. the blind man slowly walked down it, his old and gnarled walking stick tapping out his path. as he treads farther and farther down the path memories of old start to fill his mind. manifestations of his past fill his imagination. he is back in a better time.
max leavitt-shaffer
walking on paths takes us to places we never intended to go in a way that we never thought we’d go. we do it blindly, trusting the path to be well-meaning and inviting. sometimes they are.
Josh
a path. with cracks. cant stand on the cracks of the path. stand on the cracks means i hurt my mothers back, and shes had to much pain lately. So ill have to plan my route cardully along this long path.
James Docherty
The path lies before you
the path is stony
however it is a beautiful path located in the woods
don’t fear to walk the path
it is the path of truth
Paul
I always wonder about my path in life. One wonders, when one gets to that middle aged place, if one has been on the right path. I can never resist a path in the woods that twists and turns…I always have to see what is just around the next bend or over the next hill. Why isn’t life like that?
Kat
The path to the bathtub was paved purple. The purple path, the boy ran down it and jumped in the bathtub. He cleaned himself violet in the pathtub. That is all.
darby
the path was littered with old shoes, boots, even a sock or two. But none matched…none seemed new. why were they there? who had left them? Where were the mates? had they all been……taken? By whom, or what? Devlin didnt know. Mindy didnt care. And Bobby was barefoot.
Sarajane
The path that lay before him was long. It stretched out further than he could see, but it was further than he could see not because it was long, but because it wound through the forest and sight of it was obscured by the trees all around.
andy
Love is a path. Not a path I’ve traversed to much, but a path non the less. it has it’s twists and turns, it’s obstacles and it’s rocky bits, but in the end it should hopefully take you where you want it to – happiness.
Or maybe it’ll just trail off into a massive gorge of despair like some roads do.
Who knows?
mattie
The way that all the human on earth walk upon. The transition between heaven and hell. The place where you walk on when you get married. The memories of playing basketball and the first kiss
CdnHeaven
I dream about a path along a river with trees surrounding it. I wonder what animals I will see along the way….. I wonder if I would feel frightened at all. The path could lead anywhere and give me new experiences. There might be a fork in the path and I would have to choose which way to go. I am often reminded by wise people that I need to choose wisely which path in life I want to choose. Each path looks good at first but not all of them would lead to a content life.
ly
This is the path back to you.
Ophelia
The path was dark and narrow. Fallen leaves guided the path deep into the woods. The air is steal and crisp and the only sound that could be heard was from the brustle of the animals deep in the forest. Im on this path.
Jordan
what path am I on? Is it the right one? Will it take me to where I want to go? who knows where I want to go? DO you? Do I? Who does? Who determines where is right?
Tanya
On the path of least resistance, there is many a weakness that appears as strength, much foolishness that passes for wisdom and an extraordinary number of devastating relationships that pass for friendship and love.
It is easier to appease, cajole and go along with the crowd than to present your objections in an honest but respectful way. You can avoid the risk of rejection, ridicule, resentment and negativity by simply burying yourself in the comfort of everyday living. Eventually this will lead to regret in one shape or form or another and in it’s worst case, set you up for complete disaster or worse, life-threatening situations that appear when you least expect them.
Better to go down the much longer and prouder path of personal conviction, honesty and strength of character. It may be slightly more lonely, but in the end, much safer and less fraught with self-doubt and fear.
Leon Durupt
I spent an afternoon down at the river today. The wind was blowing like it was angry with me… angry for ignoring it with my jacket zipped and hood up. The path led me up to a windblown tunnel beneath the bridge, showing me a mini paradise for the homeless, and an outlet for the teenagers longing to express themselves with spray paint.
KB
I have been offered so many paths in my life. I never take the same one. Sometimes I follow the heard and follow the beaten path. sometimes I follow the less beaten path. This makes me my own person. I do not conform to one specific path.
Trenton
I didn’t expect the way you’d look at me as you left that morning, squashed into your seat in the car, your luggage around you. You didn’t ask to kiss me again, and I looked at you, hoping you would all the time. For closure, I suppose, but then, we’re all different like that. I needed something old to finish it, and you wanted something new to make sure it was done.
Aisling
the path of my deprevation leads from the point at witch I died inside and leads to the point where my vapid heart lies.
shenry
Ironic that this word would show up on this day. Path, path, find your path. Or so they tell me. Then this slump will end. You will find a way to live happy.
Bullocks I say. The path will remain hard and uphill until the day I die. And like Sisyphus I get a stone to roll the hill for my trouble.
Michele
LET ME LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
YOU’RE WALKING THE WRONG FUCKING WAY
cc
I smell the life in an old book. I approach the book, looking for a personal escapade, but the book refuses to let me continue. It is not waiting for me: it is waiting for her. She begins to devour novels, paper, and ideas. She accepts Nietzsche and criticizes Twain. For her, time has no meaning or purpose. She sees and absorbs everything simultaneously; she watches the past, pauses the present, and fast-forwards through the future. My stomach plummets as I watch her leave behind the edge of my earth. In awe of her strength, I pursue her to the depths of the underworld and to the unreachable heavens.
She looks behind one last time, seeing through my facade, and persists with her trek. She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all thats best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes. I fade away into the timeless sky and follow her.
* * *
Suddenly, a fork on the path appears. I do not know her thoughts, nor she mine. I shy away from the decision. She finds herself in the forefront, intently stares for a moment, and then chooses a path. I obediently follow, while she gracefully assumes the role of a virtuoso and acts with bravado in each step. I stubbornly cling to past dreams. I leave the remains of my fears behind in the ashen cornfields. We continue through the dark hours; she leads with a solemn flame. She walks barefoot through treachery and murky bogs without an inkling of fear. I lag behind her, observant of everything surrounding the two of us, alone on a solitary trip. I purse my lips and attempt to focus upon the destination; only she is able to see that the journey has now become the purpose.
She comments less and less as the days go by, and I mention nothing more than the essential. Our relationship is becoming a black hole, an indefinable chasm, a drained space that cannot be refilled by any emotion but stillness. The growing rift between us causes an unpleasant lingering silence, broken by snapping branches and leaves, crisp and tender moody hues. She pauses to pick up a leaf and stands there, stunned by some force that I cannot feel.
As we continue down her path, I realize that I cannot say that I know the difference between the two of us. She compels me and inspires me when I am fearful. She is everything that I am not and can never be, but she is also everything that I think of and believe in. She looks behind her, and I am gone.
Jarna Shah
WOODS, NATURE, PATH LEADING TO WATER, ALONG SIDE A POND IN THE YARD.
kimbo
What’s my path? What’s your path? Is it fate or destiny? Who assigns it- gods and goddesses like in Greece or some all knowing being that’s up there watching us? Road less traveled, or be a follower, but the second’s so much easier. Path to infinity.
Beth
a path is a line curvy or straight going to a place. when thinking of a path i think of it leading to a house. It is the symbol of life to some people and is usually use in physicality.
Brittany
A path is an obvious thing that people and animals alike would use to walk along to get from A to B. However, in a metaphorical manner the term “path” has many different connotations. e.g A pathway to freedom, forgiveness, enlightenment. A path can be more than what you see, its what you feel.
Kathy
il y avait un chemin, un petit sentier qui se déroulait sans fin le long du cours d’eau et plus allant il y avait un trou noir
Lulla
I saw the path. The path to life. Full of darkness and pain. But after walking for hours there was another path. A path full of light. Full of life. Blue skies, water, love. All a person could ask for.
Nick
The city didn’t pay much to mow the grass down by the river, and the bike path was covered in cracks from years of disrepair. She regretted wearing sandals, and pulled her feet away from the grasshoppers jumping in our way. Still, she was glad I was here, and I felt the same.
joe leiss
There’s a small grove in the forest. It leads you to a water fall. The falls thunder on for everyone to hear for miles around. Follow the path to the loud thunderous falls. Once in sight of them you’ll see rainbows arching over head, birds swooping down to the river below, and a sky so blue it’ll sting your eyes.
Krissy
A path in life can take you just about anywhere. It can go in any direction and drop you off in a variety of situations.
Trevor
You never really know what your life’s path has in store for you.
I mean, just think about it. Robert Frost talked about taking the road less traveled, but does that count with paths? Do paths diverge from your life’s road? What if you want to adventure into the woods instead of staying on the road in general?
What would be the difference between a road and a path? Besides the pavement, of course.
Stones like jewels glistened
Down a road that should never be walked
I found everything i was looking for
I found everything that hurts me
Branches offered poisoned apples
Poison that ignited a fire in my blood
The way in which, i walk in line. i stay so fine, inside the lines.
destiny, choosing and walking. picking a destination in life. making a choice. moving forward. to walk the path of the righteous is a long hard path but full of reqrd and merit. worth the journey.
A walk way of insanity, wich i lead my my recovered dreams which forth, forward.
twisted and muddy
polish my bones
as I walk with bloody feet
towards the light
beauty in a tear drop
flooding the world with satisfaction
broken down mustangs
linger with their skeletons
telling us where they’ve been
The emancipation of life through my dream kept me satisfied and recharged through the remainder of my days.
As I walked along, feeling the icy autumn wind stab its fingers into my neck and face, I realized that this was truly my heaven. Staring up at the cold grey sky, I blinked as a raindrop smacked into my face, leaving me realizing that nothing would ever be as perfect as this.
the path that i took to get here was joyous
the path was long and cold. the blind man slowly walked down it, his old and gnarled walking stick tapping out his path. as he treads farther and farther down the path memories of old start to fill his mind. manifestations of his past fill his imagination. he is back in a better time.
walking on paths takes us to places we never intended to go in a way that we never thought we’d go. we do it blindly, trusting the path to be well-meaning and inviting. sometimes they are.
a path. with cracks. cant stand on the cracks of the path. stand on the cracks means i hurt my mothers back, and shes had to much pain lately. So ill have to plan my route cardully along this long path.
The path lies before you
the path is stony
however it is a beautiful path located in the woods
don’t fear to walk the path
it is the path of truth
I always wonder about my path in life. One wonders, when one gets to that middle aged place, if one has been on the right path. I can never resist a path in the woods that twists and turns…I always have to see what is just around the next bend or over the next hill. Why isn’t life like that?
The path to the bathtub was paved purple. The purple path, the boy ran down it and jumped in the bathtub. He cleaned himself violet in the pathtub. That is all.
the path was littered with old shoes, boots, even a sock or two. But none matched…none seemed new. why were they there? who had left them? Where were the mates? had they all been……taken? By whom, or what? Devlin didnt know. Mindy didnt care. And Bobby was barefoot.
The path that lay before him was long. It stretched out further than he could see, but it was further than he could see not because it was long, but because it wound through the forest and sight of it was obscured by the trees all around.
Love is a path. Not a path I’ve traversed to much, but a path non the less. it has it’s twists and turns, it’s obstacles and it’s rocky bits, but in the end it should hopefully take you where you want it to – happiness.
Or maybe it’ll just trail off into a massive gorge of despair like some roads do.
Who knows?
The way that all the human on earth walk upon. The transition between heaven and hell. The place where you walk on when you get married. The memories of playing basketball and the first kiss
I dream about a path along a river with trees surrounding it. I wonder what animals I will see along the way….. I wonder if I would feel frightened at all. The path could lead anywhere and give me new experiences. There might be a fork in the path and I would have to choose which way to go. I am often reminded by wise people that I need to choose wisely which path in life I want to choose. Each path looks good at first but not all of them would lead to a content life.
This is the path back to you.
The path was dark and narrow. Fallen leaves guided the path deep into the woods. The air is steal and crisp and the only sound that could be heard was from the brustle of the animals deep in the forest. Im on this path.
what path am I on? Is it the right one? Will it take me to where I want to go? who knows where I want to go? DO you? Do I? Who does? Who determines where is right?
On the path of least resistance, there is many a weakness that appears as strength, much foolishness that passes for wisdom and an extraordinary number of devastating relationships that pass for friendship and love.
It is easier to appease, cajole and go along with the crowd than to present your objections in an honest but respectful way. You can avoid the risk of rejection, ridicule, resentment and negativity by simply burying yourself in the comfort of everyday living. Eventually this will lead to regret in one shape or form or another and in it’s worst case, set you up for complete disaster or worse, life-threatening situations that appear when you least expect them.
Better to go down the much longer and prouder path of personal conviction, honesty and strength of character. It may be slightly more lonely, but in the end, much safer and less fraught with self-doubt and fear.
I spent an afternoon down at the river today. The wind was blowing like it was angry with me… angry for ignoring it with my jacket zipped and hood up. The path led me up to a windblown tunnel beneath the bridge, showing me a mini paradise for the homeless, and an outlet for the teenagers longing to express themselves with spray paint.
I have been offered so many paths in my life. I never take the same one. Sometimes I follow the heard and follow the beaten path. sometimes I follow the less beaten path. This makes me my own person. I do not conform to one specific path.
I didn’t expect the way you’d look at me as you left that morning, squashed into your seat in the car, your luggage around you. You didn’t ask to kiss me again, and I looked at you, hoping you would all the time. For closure, I suppose, but then, we’re all different like that. I needed something old to finish it, and you wanted something new to make sure it was done.
the path of my deprevation leads from the point at witch I died inside and leads to the point where my vapid heart lies.
Ironic that this word would show up on this day. Path, path, find your path. Or so they tell me. Then this slump will end. You will find a way to live happy.
Bullocks I say. The path will remain hard and uphill until the day I die. And like Sisyphus I get a stone to roll the hill for my trouble.
LET ME LIGHT ANOTHER CIGARETTE
YOU’RE WALKING THE WRONG FUCKING WAY
I smell the life in an old book. I approach the book, looking for a personal escapade, but the book refuses to let me continue. It is not waiting for me: it is waiting for her. She begins to devour novels, paper, and ideas. She accepts Nietzsche and criticizes Twain. For her, time has no meaning or purpose. She sees and absorbs everything simultaneously; she watches the past, pauses the present, and fast-forwards through the future. My stomach plummets as I watch her leave behind the edge of my earth. In awe of her strength, I pursue her to the depths of the underworld and to the unreachable heavens.
She looks behind one last time, seeing through my facade, and persists with her trek. She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all thats best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes. I fade away into the timeless sky and follow her.
* * *
Suddenly, a fork on the path appears. I do not know her thoughts, nor she mine. I shy away from the decision. She finds herself in the forefront, intently stares for a moment, and then chooses a path. I obediently follow, while she gracefully assumes the role of a virtuoso and acts with bravado in each step. I stubbornly cling to past dreams. I leave the remains of my fears behind in the ashen cornfields. We continue through the dark hours; she leads with a solemn flame. She walks barefoot through treachery and murky bogs without an inkling of fear. I lag behind her, observant of everything surrounding the two of us, alone on a solitary trip. I purse my lips and attempt to focus upon the destination; only she is able to see that the journey has now become the purpose.
She comments less and less as the days go by, and I mention nothing more than the essential. Our relationship is becoming a black hole, an indefinable chasm, a drained space that cannot be refilled by any emotion but stillness. The growing rift between us causes an unpleasant lingering silence, broken by snapping branches and leaves, crisp and tender moody hues. She pauses to pick up a leaf and stands there, stunned by some force that I cannot feel.
As we continue down her path, I realize that I cannot say that I know the difference between the two of us. She compels me and inspires me when I am fearful. She is everything that I am not and can never be, but she is also everything that I think of and believe in. She looks behind her, and I am gone.
WOODS, NATURE, PATH LEADING TO WATER, ALONG SIDE A POND IN THE YARD.
What’s my path? What’s your path? Is it fate or destiny? Who assigns it- gods and goddesses like in Greece or some all knowing being that’s up there watching us? Road less traveled, or be a follower, but the second’s so much easier. Path to infinity.
a path is a line curvy or straight going to a place. when thinking of a path i think of it leading to a house. It is the symbol of life to some people and is usually use in physicality.
A path is an obvious thing that people and animals alike would use to walk along to get from A to B. However, in a metaphorical manner the term “path” has many different connotations. e.g A pathway to freedom, forgiveness, enlightenment. A path can be more than what you see, its what you feel.
il y avait un chemin, un petit sentier qui se déroulait sans fin le long du cours d’eau et plus allant il y avait un trou noir
I saw the path. The path to life. Full of darkness and pain. But after walking for hours there was another path. A path full of light. Full of life. Blue skies, water, love. All a person could ask for.
The city didn’t pay much to mow the grass down by the river, and the bike path was covered in cracks from years of disrepair. She regretted wearing sandals, and pulled her feet away from the grasshoppers jumping in our way. Still, she was glad I was here, and I felt the same.
There’s a small grove in the forest. It leads you to a water fall. The falls thunder on for everyone to hear for miles around. Follow the path to the loud thunderous falls. Once in sight of them you’ll see rainbows arching over head, birds swooping down to the river below, and a sky so blue it’ll sting your eyes.
A path in life can take you just about anywhere. It can go in any direction and drop you off in a variety of situations.
You never really know what your life’s path has in store for you.
I mean, just think about it. Robert Frost talked about taking the road less traveled, but does that count with paths? Do paths diverge from your life’s road? What if you want to adventure into the woods instead of staying on the road in general?
What would be the difference between a road and a path? Besides the pavement, of course.