I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

[Ava]

Robert Frost is my favorite poet, and this poem is one of my favorites. I thought that with all the election madness, and the turning on each other, now might be a good time to read the poem. Let the past be the past.. we can't go back, we can only change the path we are on in the present and the future.
:grouphug:

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.

[lightningandsnow]

1. Aww...thanks for posting!

That is one of my favorite poems ever.

Thank you.

:hug:

[Hobarticus]

2. My all-time favorite! eom

[Tommy_Carcetti]

3. Unfortunately, it's become a cliche....

....but it never ceases to be good advice from time to time.

[DarkTirade]

4. I think that poem was in the back of my head when I wrote this song

http://www.stickmanltd.com/practicesessions/road.mp3

[mikeytherat]

5. somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond - e.e. cummings

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what is is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

mikey_the_rat