Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be 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,
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 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 the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
the road not taken could very well be the hershey highway.
The second stanza reveals that the passing there / Had worn them really about the same. He's sighing at the end because he likes to remember that he took the road less traveled...even though he knows deep down that at the time, the roads had been, in fact, equally traveled and he essentially flipped a coin to decide which one to take. His personal choice to remember one has being less traveled has made all the difference because there was no difference in the roads. There's a certain fatalism in the poem. There are many roads to take, but the journey and the destination are probably about the same no matter what you do, but if it makes you feel good to imagine that you made the better choice, then by all means, imagine away! That's my take on the poem...but not my take on life!
Read my poem How to Write Doggerel like Robert Frost, what a hick he was, amazing that his versifying is still celebrated, but that says lots about his admirers.
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woooooow fantastic! ! ! ! that was soo good im gonna die. i wud liike to thank my pet monkey, and my mom. this was so good im gonna cry till i die i wud also luv to thannk my computer and my mouse. i cudnt do this without u. shukran
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