Two roads converged in that familiar wood
And sighing, I did not travel both,
Now at destination’s end I stood
Once yellow, now green would
Nature spur my wonder in its growth;

I watched into a stream a petal downward soared,
Ripples flowing outwards from its bed
While trials I had endured
Earning toughened soles, a home unmoored
Now pondering the journey for months I led

And knowing those roads lead to identical place
Imagining comfort in that more laden track
The petal raced down with frustrating pace
As thoughts, regrets, and memories about that race
Like I, found strength in waves of black

In spring’s embrace, rebirth seemed to die
Whether naivety, optimism, or ignorance
Two roads converged in a green wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And I wondered—if it has made a difference.