The Road

                                           
                                              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, 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.

                                                                                     By Robert Frost