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Poem

Two roads lead to the apple orchard.
And I cannot continue to two.
Indeed, the gaze is in that period.
I am the visionary, long I pursue.
And start to move, might be up in the queue.

The young people hit the paved road.
They are getting deeper and deeper in the future.
The other approach is warily conveyed.
And kept for older men, women, and a two-wheeler.
Even timeworn them, almost unaltered.

I moved alone through the trees and a wisp of cloud.
Another pattern has a genius approach.
That flies the same as a bird.
Yet realizing how progress has encroached.
How that we should alter the avowed.

People are worried almost the shift.
Our atmosphere is changing, darkened.
We are entering a period of mutation in work-life drift. 
Digital existence shrunk the relationship deeds.
This actual violent crime has widened.

The speed will blur the limit between man and tools.
So many futile plans I've contrive have clear up.
Two roads diverged in a wood, not sure if I follow the fools.
I will be watching if things improve or will ease up.
How easily we learn to hold hope and faith has clear up.

Two roads lead to the apple orchard.
And I cannot continue to two.
Indeed, the gaze is in that period.
I am the visionary, long I pursue.
And start to move, might be up in the queue.

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