The Road I Should Have Taken

I stood where two roads curved away, The light was soft, the air was still, My Uncle DeVoe, with wisdom gray, Said, “Take this path, follow your will.” He pointed where the shadows played, On leaves that whispered secrets low, His voice was calm, his hand had swayed, But in my heart, I feared to go. “I know the way,” he softly said, “This road will lead to peace and more,” Yet I chose the one ahead, For fear of what was held in store. I walked alone, the years rolled by, With each step, the weight grew cold, I heard his voice, a distant sigh, Regret it seems was growing old. Now I look back, the woods are dim, The path I chose now worn and bare, But I see him still, his figure slim, By the road I should have taken. In dreams, I walk where he once stood, His guiding hand, I long to hold, The road I should have taken—good, Was lost when I sought paths of gold.