The Road Not Taken.

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.

Who doesn't want life to be so easy as to only have to 

choose between two paths that are quite different? 

I wish life was like this. Instead, life seems

like there are millions of paths, all looking about the same. 

Who knows which one to take when they all look the same?

This poem makes it look so easy. Makes choices seem like 

a piece of cake. Maybe they are for some people, but for me, 

seeing life like this makes me jealous.