The Road Taken

He remembers the day he was
at the cross-roads at the pass.
Looking ahead and looking forward
At two roads and the herd
One, a path well trodden and well laid
To destinations within reach, without aid
The other, with leaves rotten and less traveled
Unknown turns and bends it held.
If only he were two and the choices, one
Would he have taken both and won.
And he was but a single soul
And his shoes carried his journey sole.
On the road less traveled, he took the bend
Unaware of the dangers he will have to fend
Doubts and questions sneak up like ghosts
Threatening to drown in an ocean with no coasts.
Every once in a while, he looked back
Staring into nothingness like a quack
A part of himself was left behind,
Of the darkness he was in, he was blind.
He told himself of stories of the reward,
That fortune favors the brave, not the coward
With love in his heart and courage in his cart
He kept himself from falling apart.
And there he was, there at last
At the end of his journey vast.
The ends of other's journeys were crowded
In the noise of maddening crowds, shrouded.
A lesser soul would have been tired
Satisfied with all it had tried.
He smiled at himself and looked behind
Asked himself if he liked the grind.
He 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."