The Schizophrenic Mind

It's easy for the tears of joy
to almost immediately find,
tears of sorrow;
For the person of a schizophrenic mind,
wanting to borrow
Time - thinking he's dying.

He hadn't laughed in a long time;
His life was nothing but a dish,
overpowered with lime.
He was haunted by
his fears of a brain tumour,
Which was just another one,
of his mind's rumours.

Laughing in a dream was
the most he could have.
He'd wake up almost immediately,
overwhelmed with a tear in his eye.
"The most I can have."
He'd go back to sleep with a sigh.

Soon enough,
Thoughts of death,
became an escape from deep regrets.
The thought of life -
became an excruciating pain, from a knife.
Tired of other's mind games -
a heavy work out in the gym;
He was now tired of his own
mind playing tricks on him.

March 2013,
Was the last I spoke to him,
The last I spoke to me.
That day, when he killed himself,
Was the last, I got to see myself.

Rants On Poems - The Road Not Taken.

Robert Frost's poem - The Road Not Taken gives light to decision making and what large an impact it can make.
When one comes across two roads, similar to eachother with different outcomes, one chooses what he/she feels is right. That one single choice, plays a big role ahead, in your life.
Such life changing decisions might be the smallest of decisions, which may seem easily decidable at the first glance but contain great amounts of depth.

Keeping two similar roads aside, what happens when one comes across two roads which are completely different from one and other but hold the same result? What would you do then? Would you randomly pick a path or would you look at the thorns below your feet on each of these paths?
Would a straight path with a sudden drop be preferred over a steep slope? In other words would you prefer a bullet to the heart, or a slow excruciating death?

When a road diverges into two contrasts,
Your hearts urges towards the one in which you'll last.

So, lost in the woods, which road would you take?
Time will tell.
Just follow your desires for your own sake.

The Promise

He made a promise to his best friend.
A promise to which time had no end.

A promise to be friends forever.
A promise that would keep them together.

She said there's no point, nothing ever lasts forever.
The promise is such, that someone's to be scarred forever.

Three years since that promise,
Now parted by distance,
Their friendship would never be a good riddance.

But,
Neither modest promises,
Nor nature's cruel plots,
Can compete with time.

Nothing lasts forever.
Ask him, he'll tell you, 
That time comes over.

"Oh how I wish I knew,
I'd be left alone by you.
You've left this world and gone far away.
No point of such a promise, I still hear you say."