The Road Not Taken -Robert Frost

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;

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,

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.

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

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This poem is about a moment a person has decided his/her way.

I was attracted(?) by this poem since this poem is explaining the process of making decision too easily compared to what i do in making a choice. Making a decision is one of the things i hate doing the most. In fact, it is one of my complexes. what usually happend to me when i go to a restaurant i take at least 20 minutes of deciding what to eat. It is unexplicably painful process that i have to go through each time. Go back to the poem, it sounded very cool to me the fact that the person int he poem has chosen a way that has been less traveled which connects to a new advanture or new attempt. Trying somethings new looks coooool~~~!!!

PS. I WILL PUT 3 QUESTIONS ON THE COMMENT BELOW...

still I rise-Maya Angelou

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops.

Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I've got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame

I rise

Up from a past that's rooted in pain

I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise

Maya Angelou

I chose this poem becuase...the video clip i watched in class is stucked inside my headi was so attracted by the voice of Maya Angelou!!! add to that, this poem gives me some energetic feeling through the verse i rise...and...and...yeah...

my poem choice

Messy Room
by Shel Silverstein

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!

His underwear is hanging on the lamp.

His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,

And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.

His workbook is wedged in the window,

His sweater's been thrown on the floor.

His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,

And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.

His books are all jammed in the closet,

His vest has been left in the hall.

A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,

And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!

Donald or Robert or Willie or--Huh?

You say it's mine? Oh, dear,

I knew it looked familiar!

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I think this is a funny poem. I have looked for several poems and I have chosen this one for few reasons. First, I like the way the poet is describing the messy room. His word choice is concise; they are not too long or difficult to read still they are describing a clear image of the room. I also did like the ending that the poet has made. He was repeating the word “ashamed” to kind of scold the room owner. And actually the room was his. For the last, I was attracted to this poem because of the similarities that the room of the poet and mine had. It sounded very familiar and real to me since it is something that I usually see and live in. A lot of poems look same and strict but this one was somehow different from them. These are the reasons I have decided to choose this poem.