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

by Robert Fros

"My Own Path"

I stood where silence met the trees,

The road ahead split with the breeze.

One way was worn, the other bare,

I paused, unsure which led me where.

I chose the quiet, rougher way—

No signs, no maps, just steps to lay.

And though the world called me to stay,

I smiled, and softly walked away

Reflection:

Life often gives us choices, and not all paths are easy or popular. But sometimes, following your heart — even when the way is unclear — leads to the most meaningful journey. This poem is about trusting yourself and walking your own road.

THANKS FOR READING.