your umbrella won't always hold out the rain. you'll see that <br />it gets you when the wind blows. likewise, <br />your dark glasses can't keep all the sun out. <br />your gloves are powerless against <br />the winter freeze turning your fingers purple. <br />you may think of everything. <br />everything might be simple and fine <br />for your eyes. but the road is still so crooked <br />as long as you're walking. <br />the rain will come to drown you. <br />the sun will rise up to cook you. <br />the cold will try to benumb your limbs. <br />you will see the fork in the road ahead, no matter <br />how blinded or beaten you've been. and you <br />will have to choose to deny <br />those poison darts in life, <br />to pretend you are so wisely protected... <br />or choose to take the trouble <br />as it comes.<br /><br />Scott Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fork/
