In Paths that Once Diverged but Now Remain – Sonnet Fifty-One

In paths that once diverged but now remain
As only thoughts that haunt like ghastly wood,
The simple choice no simple way contains,
Less traveled simply means less understood.
 
And all the differences perhaps equate
To nothing more than sanity’s abridge.
For what right minded fool would wordly wait
For poet’s Epitaph like Coleridge.
 
How frosty nights now seem to disappoint,
That held that promise of a different road.
Electric body, witty man’s anoint,
Electric blather, nightly slam’s unload.
 
Like Wally’s con, insurance agent’s pawn,
I’m left with notebook stains and “…Carry On.”