by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Road Not Taken
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: choice, contentment, poetry
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
As Tears Go By
by Mick Jagger
It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me
I sit and watch as tears go by
My riches can't buy everything
I want to hear the children sing
All I ever hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground
I sit and watch as tears go by
It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Doing things I used to do
They think they are new
I sit and watch as tears go by
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: melancholia
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Little Boy Soldiers
by Paul Weller
It's funny how you never knew what my name was
Our only contact was a form for the election
These days I find that I don't listen
These days I find that we're out of touch
These days I find that I'm too busy
So why the attention, now you want my assistance
What have you done for me?
You've gone and got yourself in trouble
Now you want me to help you out
These days I find that I can't be bothered
These days I find that it's all too much
To pick up a gun and shoot a stranger
But I've got no choice, so here I come
War games
I'm up on the hills, playing little boy soldiers
Reconnaissance duty up at 5:30
Shoot, shoot, shoot, and kill the natives
You're one of us, and we love you for that
Think of honour, Queen, and Country
You're a blessed son of the British Empire
God's on our side, and so is Washington
Come out on the hills with the little boy soldiers
Come on outside, I'll sing you a lullaby
Or tell a tale of how goodness prevailed
We ruled the world, we killed and robbed
The whole lot, but we don't feel bad
It was done beneath the flag of democracy
You'll believe and I do
Yes I do, yes I do, yes I do
Yes I do
These days I find that I can't be bothered
To argue with them, well what's the point?
Better to take your shots and drop down dead
Then they send you home in a pine overcoat
With a letter to your mum
Saying: 'Find enclosed one son, one medal'
And a note to say 'He won'
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments