Our choices in life...

Robert Frost (1874–1963).  Mountain Interval.  1920.

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.

 I've often wished that there were a way to split myself in two so I could travel each path before me.  Wouldn't it be wonderful?  To know exactly what awaited just around the bend of each path so that you could choose the best one?  To see the opportunities awarded each? The drawbacks?  I would see where that path would lead me 5, 10 years in the future.  Was it worth it? Did that path make me happy?  Should I have chosen the other one?  So many questions whose answers I'll never know.