Paths

Today, I was thinking about my all-time favorite poem, The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost. I was introduced to this poem by my mother when I was in Junior High. She told me it was her favorite. When I read it, I immediately understood why she loved it so much. It spoke to me on a very deep level. Throughout my life, I have referred back to this poem when I was making major life decisions. It has continued to speak to me. It makes me realize again just how important the written word is.
                                                            th (7)
The Road Not Taken
By 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 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.
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