The Road Not Taken

Poem By Robert Frost

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.

Comments about The Road Not Taken

Time for you to read some truly great poetry, not this idiot's doggerell; start with Shakespeare's sonnets, then read Wiliam Blake then Emily Dickinson, Edgar Poe, Tennyson, Yeats, Dylan Thomas, Wordsworth, then go back and look at the facile simplistic excreta written by this egotistical versifier who makes Leonard Cohen look talented.
This idiot of a poet should not be on the list of anyone's favourite poets except those who share his ignoriance
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La poesia se escribe para ser sentida, pero en este poema no he sentido nada.
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