This stayed with me...from the day i read it .. the first lines i want to learn by heart... anyway havnt posted in ages but its whatever

Frankenstien

No one sits beside the prof here in the dark,
But behind me they whisper and giggle and bark
Their disdain for what? The poetry, the black
And white, the naïveté of the monster, its lack
Of common sense, which they possess in spades?
Aren’t we, too, pieced together from open graves?

To the monster the child was like a flower,
Therefore she was a flower, and since a flower
Can float, so should the child. But she can’t, she dies.
To the students, some thirty years younger than I,
The monster is merely dumb, the girl a splash,
Like a punch line, a machine to produce laughs.

The prof packs his notes, useless, dismisses the kids,
A few linger with questions I can’t rid
Them of, ever-children drawn to the abyss.
A bus passes; I wave it on. What is
The night to do when its terrors shed their beauty?
I stumble home, past villagers hungry for duty.

- Tom Whalen

Robert Frost (Always inspires me)

The Road Not Taken

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.