Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And I could not travel both
and being one traveler, long 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;

But as for the folks passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both of them that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to 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 d one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

Hilary jr Wizy and Albert Travie