There is a blocked-off street without a name
Down which, without much thought, I almost turned.
It seemed unlike the others: wild, not tame,
Possessing that which they, perhaps, had spurned.
Yet as I reached my hand out to remove
The barriers that kept me on my path
A thought arose within me to reprove
That course, though more with pity than with wrath:
"Consider whether those who came before
Perhaps knew what they did in shutting this;
It's possible of course, that you know more,
And may find something they were wont to miss,
But likely?" And I stared down that dim street
And pondered it, and beat a swift retreat.
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