Will knots the change, you and I,
Tossed and turned, the destined tide,
Hope by then, faith’s fearless eye,
Wrought to life what’s bound to die.
Father, Daughter; Mother, Son;
Write the wrong, supply the fund,
Settle down, or up and run,
A life prescribed, and just begun.
(Source: onetrippass.com)
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
The Road Not Taken
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; 5
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, 10
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. 15
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. 20
Robert Frost
If
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,-
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven, and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,-
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
E. E. Cummings
There is no perfect day, no ever-after.
Forever is now, and that’s all that really matters.
There is no tomorrow, no guarantee.
No destiny, no fate, and no meant to be.
There is no light at tunnels’ end.
Always ending up right where we begin.
There is no point B, no American Dream.
Everybody running in circles, as dumb as it seems.
There is no gold, and who really cares?
We’re all chasing rainbows, as if they were actually there.
