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 leave
so 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 took
the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Author: Robert Lee Frost