Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And
be one traveller, 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 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 travelled by,
And that has made all
the difference.
Robert Frost