Variation on a Theme by Frost

It’s often said

Within the breaths

That two roads less taken 

In a yellow wood

Diverges, I.

I, left the morning there,

in those trees of gold,

in those paths of grass. 

The hardest part of two roads

is not who else has taken it,

but does it lead somewhere? 

I climbed the trees beside, 

And looked beyond what I could see.

And climbed back down, 

And took no path,

For these roads were not meant for me.

I will tell the sighs 

Of those ages hence

I have made all the difference.

Why must I choose 

one diverged road?