Two 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, 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 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 yellow wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
AN; Some people say that Frost was suicidal when he wrote this. If thats true, what do you think? Leave a message in the comments.