Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And indeed, no one can travel both
As be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down both as far as I could
To where they bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the one, as just as fair,
And having perhaps an easier claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Alas, as for that the passing there
Had worn me to my shame,
And on one morning I looked astray
to the road not taken, where the end was black.
I saw the yellow wood, and ran back as fast as I could!
Knowing how this way ends, I say
I ‘m sure I won’t 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.
Adapted from The Road not Taken by Robert Frost
Author’s Note: This is one of my favorite poems, and fits perfectly for the times.