The Road Not Taken - 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.

Something about this piece of writing

that tugs at my heart, 

I am not sure why, 

perhaps it is the road that I am travelling by

Nothing seems too smooth but the view is fine,

The path underfoot seems sure and flat

Even behind doesn't seem to be looking back.