Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood,
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 onto 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 yellow wood and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
—Robert Frost
This story was inspired by Robert Frost's poem. Thank you for giving it a chance.