The Third Road Poem by Ima Ryma

Three roads diverged in my lifehood.
The left looked bad, the right looked bad.
To me the middle road looked good.
What a journey on it I've had,
Watching those on roads left and right
Blow lots of hot air forth and back,
Do it constantly day and night.
There is no pause in their attack.
But on the middle road I stay,
Leave lefties and righties alone.
Maybe I will find truth someday.
I'll have to find truth on my own.

For truth, a middle roader, I
Just let the left and right roads lie.