The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
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 I 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 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.
MY MOM had a picture of a yellow poplar wood and this poem hanging in every house we ever lived in. It was from her mom and someday it will be mine. She told me what it meant the year I had my own two roads to choose from. I was so careful after my high school romance turned tragic to set rules and make a plan so that my heart didn't get broken ever again, so that my head stayed in control. The rules were supposed to save me but instead they made it even harder to choose my path. I had two men to choose from and I stayed at the beginning of the roads and looked down both paths as far as I could, as long as I could, until it was too late to choose either ...