Robert Frost is the twentieth century's greatest poet. The poem referred to
above is my favorite poem in the world. I am trying to breathe deeply, set
aside my indignation at your heretical paraphrase, and transcribe the real
poem in all its sublimity below. Unfortunately I don't have the poem with
me, so this is from memory.
The Pi(k)e Less Taken
Two roads diverged in a wood and I
Had to stop and eat some pie.
Though my heart was set on crumbled cherry,
My horse demanded boysenberry.
I said, "Shut up, you equine creep.
We have miles to go before we sleep."
My horse shut up with good horse sense,
And that has made all the difference.