On the forked road called Life
With its hedges and throes
One beckons me with experience
The other with many woes
On which will I stride
Should I have married Joan
The tall, the fair, the pointy
The hourglass would have told
Opted for loveless fecundity
A house instead of a home
Should I have quit
And stayed at home
Far-fetched these things bestride
I stayed, I trudged, I lost
The dream I didn’t grasp
What is it o road called Life
That’s never as the crow flies
Always requiring, ne’er revealing
Except the hedges talking awhile
But few ever listen.
