Robert Frost - Poem by Dejan Stojanovic
There is a word on the crossroad
That marks the open road ahead;
There is a song coming from the dark woods
Of growing cities, no less dangerous;
There is a huge family riding on horses,
Travelling different roads,
Exploring and learning after
Why one was better than another.
A word sent to open the road
Makes that road a singing road;
The road, choosing the rider;
The song, becoming the ride.
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