Shaking my Fist at Robert Frost


I was taken in
By the myth of roads taken
And untaken
As I traveled on roads
I thought
Were only taken by me.

But see,
Others have traveled -
Marked footprints in the sand -
Roads next to mine.

And I am the same
As any who has to decide:
Direction and road
Sane and safe

Insanity is only defined in an outcome

I shake my fist at you
Robert Frost
Your words deceived me for too long
In their charm of snowy rides
Horse drawn carriages
Sunny, grassy asides
I failed to sink deeper
Into the weave
The dark of your literal blanket
Finding gladness in roads
Both traveled and untaken
I left behind

Confronting me now
The miles I have been awake