The cows cross the road
eat from the dustbin
a healthy diet.
The bikes speed
with more than two on the pillion
wearing no helmets.
.
The buses ply up and down
tens hanging on the steps
unaware of the danger.
The cars race
to catch an appointment
a great going.
Hawkers walk,
looking around for buyers
a selling technique.
None follow rules
nor think of others
that be the hub
all through the day
a snapshot of my road
throughout the year.
Meenas Poems 