| 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; |  | 
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| 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, |  | 
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| 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. |  | 
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| 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. - robert frost | 
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