the long road

life is like a road. you have your beginning, your middle, and your end. there are cracks and fills. the bridges and hills. there are crashes which bring death, but also those single moments when the wind is blowing and freedom flies through your hair.

you try as hard as you can to stay between the lines, not to stray to close to the edge.

sometimes the road is smooth, clean, and blissful. Then cracks start to form. There little at first, barely noticable; but they'll start to spread, forming bigger more obvious crevouses. Eventually they may be filled in but never again will they look brand new. There will forever be the reminiscence of what was a crack. You come to a hill and try desperately to climb to the top. You make it, only to find another standing in your way. But then your able to gently glid down to the other side; a break from the ever rising difficulties. The bridges come and go, and each time you pass over, you know deep down, you may never make it to the other side. You can get to the middle only to have it crumble out from beneath you. Or maybe it collapses before you even get there and you never find out what lies on the other side. I think that's what happened to me. There were to many cracks that went unfixed, so many bridges that collapsed, that I came to a dead end. You see, some roads go on for miles and miles, there kept to perfection, and it takes years to reach the end. But there are also the roads that are forgotten, abandoned. They become nothing more than trails leading into the ever growing forest. Those are the roads that end to soon. But those are also the roads, that can tell the most interesting stories.