The Other Road
As I traveled through a browning wood
one morning full of Frost,
I saw the road fork where I stood
and wondered which path of two I should
take to not get lost.
The one looked rather flat and worn,
the other seemed to want some wear
and looked more than a bit forlorn,
but frankly I was rather torn
about deciding then and there.
If I took the path on the right
and left the other for another day,
just before it’d be out of sight
I know the urge I’d have to fight
would be to have gone the other way.
But if the left trail I were to take,
knowing how life twists and turns,
the right one I’d have to forsake,
intending to go another day
yet never likely to return.
Two roads diverged in the trees,
one looked the less-worn track,
the other, as nice, from what I could see,
but I- I couldn’t decide which it should be,
so I turned around and went back!
