Angel Red, Contributor

As a man walks through the field of butterflies and roses

He looks along the ground for the spike and whatever else opposes

For in fear that he may look above

He may slip and forever miss all he truly loves

Every time you want to stop and stares at roses

You must stop and rest from the anguishes

For all are too afraid to move and sea

Except for the lucky few who hold this key

For they do not hold fear in their heart

Passing by the time and looking at the nature’s art

Although they still do stop and stare

But not to heal a flesh’s tear

So much more simple in fact

Everyone needs a moment to know that they are whole and intact

Although tryouts will always eventually remove a spike

Whether looking up down straight all alike

This is all a part of the journey

It isn’t always the same boring monotony

Let your mind wander as you do

There is no perfect path none of us have a single clue