“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
Never Mind the Bollocks
Here’s the Sex Pistols”
Or some shit like that.
Robert Frost wrote some of those words when he was in the wrong place at the wrong time but like any true poet he managed to obscure and mangle the meaning beyond any identifiable context under the guise of ‘art.’
Why should he have all the fun?
Presented here, my own brand of The Road Not Taken. Only with seagulls and water. But no choices, no take A or take B, take the one traveled more or the one traveled less. Because it is a Fool’s Gold.
Build your own damn roads.