sometimes there is doubt and the fingers
keep twitching as your doubts keep  piling.
are we on road not taken, the frosted road
less frequented than road curving far off?

to be is not to exist to die and not to live.
stand on train foot-board as a wind blows
and let doubts tear your truth into shreds
and the road not taken is very road taken?

answers are all I have to all your questions
between us are snowflakes of a failed logic.
we are on a frosted road, frequently taken,
the frost gathered roadside , time to time.

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