Day 6 Poetry: The Road Not Taken

Life is alot about decisions and choices. They don't come with guarantees: you don't have the luxury of knowing whether or not you made the "right" decision until afterwards. And even then, who can say with any certainty that one path is better or safer than another?

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I think I first heard this poem in elementary school. I knew early on it would be necessary for me to venture into foreign territory at points in my life. And it's turned out that way. As in:

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"A ship in harbor is safe, but it doesn't see anything."

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Today, please enjoy the poetry and wisdom of Mr. Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
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The Road Not Taken

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.