To choose a path

My cautious steps lagged through the woods

following uncertainty's ambiguous light

and wishing for the wisdom of hindsight

The path diverged as Mr. Frost said it would

But fear held my stride until still I stood

stopped in the road during a cloudy night

frozen like a deer caught in charging headlights

As I stopped to question signs I misunderstood

I saw confident rays of the morning beam

and break through that dark, noisy mist

My feet, at last, found their stride

and began to follow the trail’s gleam

I felt a new strength and peace in my midst

when I finally knew what I had to decide

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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