What is it to write ones

thoughts on a

page

to share with

an on-looker

a passerby

a spectator

ideas and

fears

and matters of the

heart

to possibly

resonate

or

cause something to

stir

the pot

and the kettle

were never really

foes

I suppose.

©S.J.Reed

Convenience is killing you.

Leading you downhill to your grave.

What Frost doesn’t say,

Is the road less taken,

Is steep in grade,

Filled with potholes,

Uphill all the way.

What you don’t realize,

Is downhill leads to disease.

Instead of being easier,

It’s hard on your knees.

Instead of building character,

Instead of building muscle,

You’re building a pile of regret,

Too big to shovel.

Fortunately,

hope is not lost,

For those who want to heal,

Willing to pay the cost.

It’s not a price paid

In money or time.

The fee for your soul,

Must be paid by your mind.

It starts by taking a long hard look,

Admitting you’re dragging your feet in the dirt.

Convenience tricked you,

With seductive deceit.

It lured with comfort,

But ended in defeat.

It promised you rest,

But delivered despair,

A journey so smooth,

That led to nowhere.

So choose not the path,

Where convenience lies,

For it's in all the struggles,

Where true value lies.

The climb may be steep,

And the journey severe,

But each step strums a song,

Your soul yearns to hear.

In each brave uphill step,

In every small strive,

You experience REAL living,

Not just living to survive.