In a wood of yellow hue,
Two roads diverged, so new,
A traveler stood, pondering which to take,
A decision to make, a path to make.
Both paths lay before him fair,
But he couldn't travel both, to be aware,
He gazed down one, as far as he could,
To where it bent in the underwood.
Then he took the other, as just as fair,
Grassy and wanting wear,
But he knew that either way,
He would miss what the other had to say.
The morning sun lit both paths in leaves,
No step had trodden, as each path weaves,
But he kept the first for another day,
Thinking he could come back another way.
The paths diverged, the choices were made,
And the traveler journeyed, unafraid,
And though he knew he'd never come back,
He took the path less traveled by, with no lack.
And that has made all the difference, he'd sigh,
As he looked back on the road gone by,
For in taking the road less traveled,
The traveler found himself unraveled.
For in taking the road not taken,
He found the road to be unshaken,
And in taking the path less traveled by,
He found his own path, and learned to fly.
by Otieno Elvis Gikoi
THE ELO’S POETRY
©bold-geo
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