As I stumbled through the maze of life, I lost my way upon the path.

The path to here was simple and plain:
the future in front;
the past behind.

The path so far took no effort to take; at a crossroads... take the path that lies ahead.

But what of the paths that are not taken? Were they too dark?
Too cold?
Too uninviting?

No, it was just the curtains draped across the hall, hiding sight of the future that way.

I once reached an intersection
and was guided to the side path
and it was good.

But once on the path, I forgot to turn left or right, and in the end, walked into a pit anyone could see from a mile away.

Climbing out was hard, but in the end, something was learned.
And it was an important lesson.
And an other important lesson was missed.

And so I cautiously walk along the path, ever going forward, often looking behind. Rarely looking to the side.

One day, I'll reach a crossroads that doesn't go straight, and I'll be forced to again choose:
Left?
Or right?

When I get there, I'll think to myself, "My choices lead me here," having not ever really made a choice.

Because the real choices involves the risk:
Changing direction might be better.
Or worse.

But every side path shares one thing in common: they will all be different than the choiceless path.

And only cowards always go straight.