Dorothy trod The Yellow Brick Road
Toto rushed, to and fro.
But, what of the other Path? Red. Stone.
Can it be walked alone?
Like all Gods, the Great Oz was Deceit
Yellow bricks, eager Feet.
Dorothy’s False God, she would Entreat.
Empty thought, all a Cheat.
Is all that glitters gold? Not Yellow bricks.
Oz’ glittering tricks?
Were the Other chosen, Ruby Red clicks,
Ignored by Scarecrow’s sticks.
The Red Brick Road wound to fearful Places,
Hopeless, tearful Faces.
Where the Red Road ends, no Oz, no Traces,
False Gods, or rigged Races.
The place it leads is Self-Reliance
Minds free from Oz’ trance.
Glittering gold? Fool’s Gold. Dalliance.
Choose the Red Bricks and Chance.
© All rights reserved, 2016.
Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.