Potholes Poem by Mario, Lucien, Rene Odekerken

The road is never whole.
It breaks in quiet surrender,
small wounds widening under heavy wheels,
rain filling the emptiness
like time setting into forgotten places.

Feet hesitate,
tires jolt,
a rhythm of absence marking the journey.
Each hollow tells a story-
of neglect, of passing seasons,
of something once solid,
now carving in.

People swerve,
complain,
learn the map of missing pieces.
But the road remains,
waiting for hands to mend
what is always breaking.