Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And sniffed down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one more traveled by,
For the woods may be lovely, deep, and dark
But I prefer the well-worn park
And I´d give up all the silence and all the view
For one leftover crumb of barbecue.