Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
                              And sorry I could not travel both
                             And be one traveler, long as 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 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 wood, and I-
                               I took the one less traveled by,
                            And that has made all the difference.

                                      -Robert Frost