Robert Frost
Robert Frost (1874-1963)
There is a word on the crossroad
That marks the open road ahead
There is a song coming from the dark woods
Of growing cities, no less dangerous
There is a huge family riding on horses
Travelling different roads
Exploring and learning after
Why one was better than another
A word sent to open the road
Makes that road a singing road
The road, choosing the rider
The song, becoming the ride
-Dejan Stojanovic
