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.
One of my favorite poems of all time. Walking on a path less travelled gives you a different and wider perspective. It’s mostly your instinct that matters. You just have to keep going. You would be unique but people won’t understand you. It sometimes would be lonely with no other travelers on the way, it’s okay. The others in the way who haven’t found you is also thinking the same. It’s a matter of choice to stand alone. Being able to separate yourself from the crowd. Walking miles with no footprint of any company. Just Keep Going. Don’t Stop.