Deja vu - a poem

Deja vu

The roads had never been diverged.
Dusty, barren and cold
Simply a long stretch — nothing new

No goals, no ambitions — nothing to pursue

Distractions simply pushed things — past it’s due

For they were windows — exposing a mundane view

I, a fool

Waited for things to unfold

All showing not a sign,

Not a clue

Of all of them leading, 

To you.