Do you like poetry? Then you're gonna
like this video. Just forget about your worries and put out of your mind your
troubles
for a moment. Find a minute for yourself. Sit down and try to relax. Now,
you’ll hear the most touching and heart-warming poems in the world. They will
bring tears to your eyes. They will make you go and hug your beloved. They will
encourage you to change the world for the better. Lay aside your problems and
just listen...
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 sounds 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 listen to
the muscles child listen to the dumps
listen to the shouldn'ts the Impossibles
belongs listen to the never halves then
listen close to me anything can happen
child anything can be
[Music]
two roads diverged in a yellow wood and
sorry I could not travel both and be one
traveler long I stood and looked down 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 she had a
blue skin and so did he he kept it hid
and so did she
they searched for blue their whole life
through then passed right by and never
knew when ever you're called on to make
up your mind and you're hampered by not
having any the best way to solve the
dilemma you'll find is simply by
spinning a penny no not so that chance
shall decide the affair while your
passively standing there moping but the
moment the penny is up in the air you
suddenly know what you're hoping
the art of losing isn't hard to master
so many things seem filled with the
intent to be lost that their loss is no
disaster lose something every day except
the fluster of lost door keys the our
badly spent the art of losing isn't hard
to master
then practice losing further losing
faster places and names and where it was
he meant to travel none of these will
bring disaster
I lost my mother's watch and look my
last or next to last of three loved
houses went the art of losing isn't hard
to master I lost two cities lovely ones
and vaster some realms I owned two
rivers a continent I miss them but it
wasn't a disaster even losing you the
joking voice a gesture I love I shan't
have lied it's evidence the art of
losing is not too hard to master though
it may look like write it like disaster
if you think you are being you are if
you think you dare not you don't if
you'd like to win but you think you
can't it is almost a certain you won't
if you think you'll lose
you've lost for out in this world we
find success begins with a fellow's will
it's all in the state of mind if you
think you're outclassed you are you've
got to think high to rise you've got to
be sure of yourself before you can ever
win the prize life's battles don't
always go to the stronger or fastest man
but sooner or later
the man who wins is the man who thinks
he can
what happens to a dream deferred does it
dry up like A Raisin in the Sun or
fester like a sore and then run does it
stink like rotten meat or crust and
sugar over like a syrupy sweet maybe it
just sags like a heavy load or does it
explode said the little boy sometimes I
drop my spoon said the little old man I
do that to the little boy whispered I
wet my pants I do to left the old man
said the little boy I often cry the old
man nodded so do i but worst of all said
the boy
it seems grown-ups don't pay attention
to me and he felt the warmth of a
wrinkled old hand I know what you mean
said the little old man
[Music]
[Music]
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