A POEM

OK, I know this is not my style, but I still want to share.

In fact, this was shared by a handsome radiation oncologist.
(Honestly, I didn't know this is his style either)

However, it's pretty neat. To whom needs to work late.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
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.

It's good, isn't it?

By the way, the author should be Robert Frost.

yabee~~