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roads diverged
in a yellow wood, And sorry I
could not travel both And be one
traveler, long I stood And looked
down one as far as I could To
where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as
fair, And having perhaps the
better claim, Because it was
grassy and wanted wear; Though
as for that the passing there Had
worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden
black. Oh, I kept the first for
another day! Yet knowing how
way leads on to way, I doubted if I
should ever come back. I shall be
telling this with a sigh Somewhere
ages and ages hence: Two roads
diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


~Frost