A gossamer tangle of cobwebs.
A million threads tied in a knot.
Infinite lines radiating from this standstill;
Diverging, converging, entwining,
Yet each leading its own separate way,
Laughing at the ineptitude of crossroads.
If only I stood at mere crossroads
And every picture were cut black and white
With none of these confounding shades of grey,
Would the choice have been any easier then?
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 5:48pm on Nov 29, 2024 via server WEBX1.