Life Is A Lane Poem by Gladden Scribbles

through the night I live on,
cheating slumber for my muse
through my leisure i brood,
deeply over my shaky life
oh! life has been a tarred road
a strange lane full of potholes
and I am journeying on,
in my old, stuffy wheels
but why are there checkpoints
with how shuddery the road is?
and who are these delayers?
asking how my odyssey has been;
and now the road is full of strange voices
one saying, 'take that lane'
the other on the contrary
while the rest focused on their lane
unconcerned of anyone's way
and I have come to an halt
compelled by a brooding force;
shall I take that driver's lane,
and arrive on time to my destination?
or shall I take that sick lane,
meant to be my wheel's way
so my heart is left undecided
and I am here hushed on my wheel
thinking of the lane,
that will bore me no later compunctions
like of imprudent drivers in time past
who lost their way,
by their fruitless decisions.