Two roads diverged in a wood
yellow, and sorry not to make them
Both being a single, long I stood
One of them until I could peering
Where in the undergrowth turning.
Then took the other, which was equally good
And having perhaps the best stocks
Because it was grassy and seemed a little marked;
Although, after all, the passing of The people
really had marked more or less the same,
Why no one in the morning showed
On grass the black mark of a step.
Oh, the other one I left for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
doubted if I should ever come.
tell this story with a sigh
Somewhere between long time:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I ...
I took the one less traveled by, And
made all the difference is coming.
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