A short poem with great depth.
There is no choice Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in the yellow forest,
I'm sorry I can't go both.
As a traveler, I stood for a long time.
Look down as much as I can.
It bends in the bushes;
And took the other one, and to be fair,
Maybe there's a better way to put it,
Because it is covered with grass and needs to be worn;
Although, for the passage there
Dressed the same,
That morning, both of them were lying down.
There are no black footprints in the leaves.
Oh, I saved the first one for the next day!
But knowing how the road leads to the road,
I doubt whether I will come back.
I will tell it with a sigh.
Somewhere after year:
Two roads diverged in a forest, and I-
I chose the less traveled one,
This makes everything different.