No Need To Even Bother Reading this
#1
It's getting on to the shank of the evening for old guys and feel the need to express something and it's won't be real unless I can see the words. We all have events in our lives that we don't share here, and for the most part thats the way it should be. So, I'd like to get this printed out, making it real because it's "published". 

Thanks to Mr. Frost.

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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