When after years of plodding,
I came to that place where the two roads diverged.
Or a small untrodden path
Veered left into dense underbrush

The masses stormed right
Unchecked, a herd, the mob, it ran
Their eyes only on their choice

I stood at the crossroads
Watching the trickle contrast the river
Watching the people
Sure in their ways

A few stood
Just staring, without words
Watching the masses

And suddenly I knew
Running left
I escaped
Ran away

And when I looked back
I saw
I had missed nothing.