To take the road less-traveled by,

you often roam alone;

and often you must wander

before you find your home.

Everything that's wonderful

does not get its reward,

and just because he's God above

does not mean he's called "Lord."

And beauty's often missing,

and often overlooked,

and things that destroy people

are those that have them hooked.

And though we have the sunshine,

and though we have the birds,

we spend our time both saying

and hearing obscene words.

And we have learned to trash things

and cause each other pain,

and learned that nothing matters

except our selfish gain,

but if we could see the sunshine

hiding in a smile

then maybe we would start to care

and go the extra mile.

And maybe things would turn around,

and maybe turn out right.

Maybe we could turn to day

the endless, darkened night.

And maybe we could see those things

that deserve some hearty praise,

and maybe we could find some good

to counter our malaise.

And maybe if we cared enough

we could change the world;

but "maybes" are a lullaby

that 'round our hearts are curled.

Yet I can't forget "maybes"

and all that they could mean,

and I hold out hope that maybe

we could bring back hope again.

Yet I have learned that often

we must roam alone,

and often we must travel

before we find our home.

So I will walk my weary path

and I will search for gold,

and I will use my tender hopes

for warmth when I get cold.

And as I walk my little path

that's been less-traveled by,

I'll hope for a companion

to help me learn to fly.