The road to life is a long one. We travel it each day. The path we choose is the hard one; Yet we know it's the right way. We keep a book of maps In our hearts, and minds, and hands. We study it with good intent So as to understand. The trees, they are so plentiful. They're there to block our view. The rocks, they tend to fall just so, To stumble me and you. At times we lose our balance. We'll slip, or trip, or fall, But the lessons learned are valuable, And the injury is small.
Reason for writing:
We are all so very imperfect, but yet, the desire to do what's right and moral still seems to find us, whether we pursue that desire or not. I wrote this poem to kind of keep me going when I may do something that would seem questionable in God's eyes.
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