Potholes, the
nightmare of every human
If cars could
speak, inhuman would be their cry
The Lagos
Potholes fears
Like a beer
parlour endears people to drinks
The potholes
endear cars to the workshop.
Potholes stay
fruitful with offspring
The fruits of
raindrops turned ugly
Multiply by more
vehicular ply
Try a count, a
headache mount
Like a pot in the
kitchen to cook your favourite meal
The holes on the
roads book your appointment for a mechanic deal
To have your
shocks heal'
But with every
mechanic visit
Their cry, we
feel through the fly of funds
For their repairs
from our wallet
Then, with every
unfamiliar road passed
The potholes
stand tall in our memory
The visit to the
mechanic short-lived
But unforgotten
by dent in finances
A ten minute
drive through Lagos with no potholes
Might be a fear
to fight when found out of Lagos
Never a dream
But a reality
with plight on location
Earliness, a
basis for lateness
Appointments
turn' disappointments
Traffic, a drain
from productivity
Energy lost in
road discomfort
Potholes dodge
The skill to car
shocks survival
With caution, the
vehicle surpasses expectation
But like a
network,
Reception for
more potholes stay the attraction
With lost
hours for a handful minutes journey
Lost
opportunities come lost money
Impurities to
national growth, never funny
The future stays
epic but bleak by myopic governance
Expeditiously we are acclaimed the city of excellence
But with resilience on the roads, comes crimed violence
Now, a wake-up
call never to fall
But stand tall
over the wall
Our growth, never
cowed by granted problems
THE END
Words through the mind of Taiwo, Kehinde Oluwaseyi
