Discovering Myself while I wait for you
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. - Robert Frost ***************************************************************************** I am an angel, I'm a devil I am sometimes in between I'm as bad as it can get And good as it can be Sometimes I'm a million colours Sometimes I'm black and white I am all extremes Try to figure me out you never can There's so many things I am I'm someone filled with sel...