Poultry farming and other endeavors were unsuccessful. But, as a poet, Frost, had misery, his father died when he was 11, he worked a slew of unfulfilling jobs, attended Harvard but had to drop out due to health concerns, had a difficult period in New Hampshire for 12 years working on the farm, first born son Eliot died of Cholera, son Carol committed suicide at 38, his daughter Irma developed a mental illness, daughter Marjorie died in late 20 ’ s after giving birth, Elinor died after being born. He is not as clear as I would like in knowing this all-important message. He talks about the divergent roads, and he took the one less traveled and that made the difference. He concludes, that he will be telling this poem with a sigh, which implies that much has passed and perhaps he remains as uncertain as the first day. Most of us are stuck with decisions we have made. He talks about leaving the first road for another day, but quickly realizes that life can be distracting and you never actually can go back to the place where such a decision was warranted. Those that do make conscious choices have regret or no regret it seems. Perhaps, this implies that most people do not make conscious choices. Maybe, he means that not many people have even considered the two roads, or made a choice like this. The voice in the poem also says that on both roads no leaves had been trodden black. He chose the other road and walked it as far as he could see the other road ’ s end, before it bent, and he said of it that it had the better claim and why is because it was “ Grassy and wanted ” to be worn, but he realized that both roads were actually about the same in terms of wear. It is damp, it is dark, it is the culmination of a churning and collecting of all sources of dead and dying life and now something can grow from it. Undergrowth is teeming with organic mulch that is good for growth. He also implies in using the term “ undergrowth ” that something remained under the surface that caused the detour or awareness. I think the voice is talking about having regret, where like a mid-life crisis, you begin to wonder why you chose the career you did. He looked down one road as far as he could to where it bent, which I think is key. the world that forces them into its direction. I have twelve years, but my body is tiring.įrost, or the voice in the poem, said that he could not travel both roads that he saw in a “yellow wood.” A yellow wood to me, while obviously a reference to autumn, spoke more as a cowardly environment, where people seldom follow what is in their heart vs. I am now working on saving enough money to retire. I did eventually buy a condo and I paid cash for a 2-year-old car. I still don ’ t really comfortably know that answer to this question even after consulting the many books that basically say: “ Do What You Love and the Money Will Follow, ” and also listening to friends, who recommend buying property and planning for the future. This is perhaps the question that most troubles me: I do not know what I should do for a living. I have often thought both in terms of what Robert Frost meant by this poem and its application to our lives.
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