The roads diverged in a yellow wood,
I\'m one traveller that always stood.
I looked down as far as I could,
To where it bent undergrowth.
Then took the other just as fair,
it was so grassy and wanted wear.
And perhaps having the claim,
had worn them really the same.
And both that equally lay,
I kept the first for another day.
In leaves that weren\'t trodden black,
I doubted if I will ever come back.
I would be telling this with a sigh,
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I.
Somehwere ages and ages hence,
and that has made all the difference.
The choices I had to choose,
left a deep bruise.
For life is never difficult not only for those who are strong,
but also for those who are and were never wrong.