I wonder if Robert felt as torn staring down those roads -
The two that called with equal weight.
I wonder if he cried over the one left behind
The one denied.
A decision made in 20 lines
Couldn’t have the same gravity
That calls me back to mine.

A Tattered photograph, kept in a bag
Two beautiful and dusty roads, one of them denied.
I look upon it and cry
As I pray and dream
Wishing everything were different.

What seems like an instant response
Was a promise to God -
Rehearsed for a year, in fact.
Giving me the words once I heard your words -
The road in my photograph.
         I look upon it and cry-
How I wanted to hear those words
And still want those words.
I collect leaves and flowers
Simple reminders kept in a bag
Keeping some hope alive.
As I walk farther down this path
        I still pray.

There, somewhere between my dreams and wishes
Your words would draw my attention
Up ahead the two roads narrow down to one
Beautiful and dusty, my longing is filled
those old reminders are needed no more. 

A new photograph, kept in a bag-
Two roads diverged ‘n brought back together.
Nothing would be denied
          And everything would be different.