The Road Not Taken…
Remote from the world being abided am
I with my bod no one the hither
Planning to choose from either roads but bam,
Both are intriguing, I’m in rigor.
Trod for a mile after swept from a hill
Setting myself to back but now it’s killed
‘Cause I’m all bogged my fate is to shrug
I am posed to pick a path from two scrub.
Let’s sit here, to moot all ones who can dare
And who journey in what path have a care
So that I can console my soul being mazed
To sail through the route to turn me be lazed.
The two roads being odd, the first one’s ampler
Cropped with weeds, forges sealed with a moor,
While the last one readable hyaloids
Winsome seductive glossy spick-and-span.
Three more days I hold off posing this core
Tried to pass judgement like Mr. Wordsworth
But none of my hearts, fended this valour
Thinking and thinking passed some time unworth.