The trodden leaves, their very personalities, our purposes, are equally unworn, “ Bent ” only “ in the undergrowth ” after a time in which we have ignored our true selves. For the world washes over us smoothing us down as we move against each other so that one grain of sand is no different from another. He “ affected ” a personality in his poetry, like God created a world that does not exist. His children s’ lives spoke of the abuse that truth received, where the abused abuse, where a constant listening and informing of the truth is the ultimate sacrifice, from where he stood outside and called the shots his children suffered inside. The abuse he cast proves he should not have been a father. Here is only the one road for a poet and it is lonely. We are the road less traveled and we actually have very little control over what jobs we get, directions we take, but also this idea of the author creating this so-called dual decision? What Frost is saying in his poem is that he followed a path that he really couldn ’ t deny. While a poet doesn ’ t make much money and very few great poems are written, like Frost, you end up teaching… well some poets are lucky enough to end up that way. I can see all his commitments ending in failure, because a poet thinks in terms of parables, not practicals. There were no publishers for a time, only two poems published. 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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