One Fine Day in the Middle of the Night

-Anonymous Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

Ladies and Gentlemen, skinny and stout,
I’ll tell you a tale I know nothing about;
The Admission is free, so pay at the door,
Now pull up a chair and sit on the floor.
One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight;
Back-to-back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other.
A blind man came to watch fair play,
A mute man came to shout “Horray!”
A deaf policeman heard the noise and
Came to stop those two dead boys.
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

He lived on the corner in the middle of the
block,
In a two-story house on a vacant lot;
A man with no legs came walking by,
and kicked the lawman in his thigh.
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.

He crashed through a wall without making a

sound,
into a dry creek bed and suddenly drowned;
The long black hearse came to cart him
away,
But he ran for his life and is still gone today.

I watched from the corner of the big round

table,
The only eyewitness to facts of my fable;
But if you doubt my lies are true,
Just ask the blind man, he saw it too.

The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST