Guided Poem by james watkin

A little one, trembling, helpless
At middle-point of a long hike
Is now stuck; knee-dropped, teary.
Blown o'er of a cold, lone feeling.
Of shades of doubt, enlarged; of dark
Fearfulness makes more bleary.

Am that child still; still by forked paths
At minds's divide, whose right and left
Is layered with right and wrong.
Never given access to know
A day's or life's next step is of
Fate's proposing all along!