The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

There in the middle of the road
in the middle of that yellow wood
there was that divergence
the two paths which crossed
now being split
and I the traveler
no longer could go forth
on both but
must choose which one
is right for me.

I look down the one as far as I could
and I look down the other
wishing one would tell me
which way was correct for
me to go upon.
But alas, they did not speak to me
at least not in a language I can
and so it was up to me
to determine
which path
which direction
was my intention
in this life.

The one way looked rather ruff to me
with undergrowth deep
dark leaves and thick foliage
sticking out in all directions.
the other way looking rather nice
rather splendid with its tall grass
which to choose?

I will take the one with the darkest leaves
the one which snakes and winds
through the trees
which does not place the soul at ease
that is the path for me.

And I will leave the other
that beautiful resplendent pasture
for another who is less adventurous
in heart and soul
who prefers to walk or stroll
rather than struggle with the mortal
tormoil that is life.

Two roads diverging here in
the wooded woodlands
and I choose the one less traveled
and that makes all the difference
but not to me
not yet
let the future tell of past