The road that is and isn’t
There is something the matter with the road
It looks bent at wrong angles
And straight at twisted places
It has ditches that are harmless
And bumps where there shouldn’t be any
It goes narrow at the out skirts and large at city gates
It dips where it should rise
And fall at places where it should be otherwise
It’s black at noon and pale at night
The tar doesn’t boil in sun
But gets warm in the evening
It sleeps during day and wakes up at night
Then is sometimes is washed away by wind
There are no mirages where there should be
No dead ends
Shops are always seen walking in towards it
Interfering with the goings on
People on foot stroll on the middle of the road
They seem oblivious to traffic
Stray mammals go to sleep crosswise
On whatever strip they can find on it
Rallies lift over the road and disappear into heaven
The light only shines during day
At night there are disputes
Some say that this road is, and some maintain that it isn’t
May be it both is and isn’t.
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