How I am doubtful of my future, Of what I am yet to be, Of WHAT I am yet to be. I as who is this Future, Who is that shadow over me? Who AM I yet to be. Am I a movie or some star, Or better yet some genius by far? Am I a glamour girl on screen, With flashing lights, Oh what a dream. The sun rises in its light And it sets within the night, Of my mind and doubt, Of my hungry doubt, Of my persistent doubt, AMBITION. What kind of dancer could I be, When there are so many more like me. What kind of psychic healer, what kind of analyst am I, When the world is so full of those who would love to help us cry. What am I yet to be, To become, What is to become of me? Of this little girl, Of this silly girl, Of this party girl. Of this girl who dreams within the night, And dances to the blazing light. Of this girl who fools around, Of this girl who is travel bound. Will this girl go off to space. One of a million lost cadets? All those stars just twirling round, So much light and yet in darkness we abound. How ‘bout those models, slim and tall, Whatever happens to them all? Do they get old and sip their tea, Or indulge in one unforgettable movie? Do they cry until the end, Or do they enjoy the awe of men, Until the end, Until the end, The awe of millions of men, Of so many faceless men, What will become of them? Those who are proud, Those who have everything around, Those who know they have it all, Is life for them a crystal ball? What about those who like to laugh, But hate to cry, Who love to win, Who always win, but hate to lose, Who hate to lose, They never lose. Is life for them a crystal ball, That never ever breaks at all? But then what about those who accomplish more than life, Those who are larger than my strife, Those who persist with faith and love, Those who are whiter than the dove, And wilder than the beast. What is it like for those who love? Those who rage and those who soar, With the wildest dove once more. What will become of them? What will become of those? Will the wind depart their sail, And will their ship sink then? Or will the wind just mellow out, And keep them sailing still. Quietly, Knowingly. Burning, passion, Prosperity, Serenity. Is that what becomes of those, Who can accomplish more than life? Is that what becomes of them, Who are stronger than my Doubt and larger than my Strife? Serenity, what sweetness lies there in the sail. And what about those who dream Who dare and hope and hope and pray, Who wait and who believe. Who hunger like the dogs, On streets of darkness and disarray. What happens to the dogs who pray? And what about this silly girl? Frost’s own two roads diverge before her now- One road beckons, urges, moans- “Up ahead lies a crystal ball, not too far up but up on high a crystal ball is waiting by.’ The other road offers a simpler lot. The other road, it beckons not. Just one quick wink and one soft sigh, A gentle promise of what is waiting by. And so I walk the streets by night, And I wander, And I struggle and I ponder. Which street will leave me with my vision, And which one will grant me sight?