Oh Road.... where art thou

Dear Road, where art thou

Are you going the pavement way

You may not be shrinking or disappearing 

Or been encroached upon

Well to think of it

The metro work has encroached on you

But still you are not in the way

You are meant to be

You have been concreted

And many place have replaced

The tar roads which we once knew

But then you are not completely concrete 

There are joints which are still tar

That throws two-wheel riding fools like me

Often off balance and out of whack

And then there are edges 

and manhole covers

Where it may seem like 

You ran out of concrete 

And in its place you have 

Tar and Paper blocks 

Oops, I meant Paver blocks

The covers of the manholes

Which rise up or dip down

Often a trip hazard 

That could lead to any fall

And then the paver blocks

That have been laid

In such an artistic way

Must have given its layer

A creative orgasm 

Knowing that they’re pockets are full

And those blocks have been laid

So such novel ways

The quality of them don’t matter

Not to them or the ones commissioning it

Cause there’s money to be made

So you have them sinking

And even breaking to two

Making riding on it

An experience full of surprises

Never knowing what to expect

Always staying cautious and focused 

Then you have the legendary potholes

Like the craters on the moon

Giving you the feeling of

Riding on the moon

If you were able to ride on the moon

So you never know 

What you need to concentrate on

The Road, dodging the potholes

Or the characters you meet on the street

Not forgetting the continuous digging

For God knows what

But they continue to dig and drill

And then go and fill

And then go ahead and dig again

Maybe it’s a way that just 

To keep you busy and employed 

And as I said before 

You also have the metro

That have encroached upon you

Often taking up the good part of you

Making us poor riders ride 

On the uneven parts of you

So sometimes I wonder 

Who do I pity more 

The poor you

That’s constantly the source

Of the income for a few

Constantly being dug up 

And encroached upon

Or the poor vehicles that ride on you

That have to face so much wear and tear

Or even the poor drivers or riders

Who need to pay utmost attention to you

Or find themselves on the road

Or even in a pothole

Or a ditch by your side

With a broken back and in pain

But no matter what

We shall always take you

Even though we may curse

And call you names

Cause deep in our hearts

We know that you’re not

The one to blame

But we just hope 

You don’t disappear altogether