On Life and Robert Frost

Hola my babies! πŸ™‚

Yes I wrote again! πŸ˜€ <insert smirk emoji> I slept last night, at 09 pm, like whoa right? Yes, I thought so too. I started writing this post with the hope of actually saying something but alas, my little pea brain got the better of me. So because I’m a loser like that, I thought of posting one of my favourite poems, by well one of my favourite poets. Almost favourite at least. Have some American ish going on there. Tsk. Also, I know the poem is clichΓ© but you can go suck on that. Eh.

Have a great Thursday! It’s almost the weekend πŸ™‚
❀

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy EveningΒ 

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.
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