(This poem came to me yesterday as I was working on final chapter of my novel which takes place in 1990 and considering how it coincided with what’s happening now. Like all my poems it is rare, spontaneous, unpolished, and formless.)
At the crossroads
We are
Not only a fork in the road
But a path forward
And another backward
One into a future
Of equality, enlightenment
Knowledge, compassion, unity
The other back to a past
Of greed, self serving,
Ignorance, intolerance, persecution
We are at the battle within
Our dark past
Asserting itself
Loudly and proudly
Appealing to the basest of instincts
To keep its ebbing power
By embracing falsehoods
As if they were sacred truisms
And corrupting the soul
What does it take
To fight the good fight
To overcome
The oppressive gloom
Of belligerent know-nothingness
To pilot the ship of hope
Over the sea of stupidity
To fight hatred
Without giving in to hate.
©️2022 Robert Kirkendall
Robert Kirkendall 
Thank you for sharing! It reminded me of Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken, you know “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood”…
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Thank you! I began to see the similarity after I wrote it.
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