The
old road
Of
mud and stones
The
childhood memories
The
potholes when it rains
The
footprints of the young
Walking
miles to another village
Climbing
slope feeling the air
The
old road in my mind
Sometimes
the old road
The
long bumpy rides on the bicycle
Avoiding
the muddy potholes and splashes
It is
the footprints of the young
Nothing
hardly stays
In
times the old road is tarred
The
long stretch of road
The
dark colour in the eyes
It is
called development
In
time the villages too are gone
Displace,
bring down with high rise buildings
And
the cool weather slowly disappears
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