The Road

I am a lone weary road,
less commuted on.
I have ditches in between,
ruts of wheels
and some indelible scars.

I drived my commuters to their destinations
but I lost mine... Irony, that is...
I kept going, winding on corners,
finding my way through
places impassable,
but I couldn't find the place where
I was meant to go...

I searched , I searched for long
but I ended up at the crossroads
where I saw roads like me,
finding their ways to their
lost destinations...

I am tired of journeying
sick of walking
and now its intolerable
to be trampled on.
My chest pains.
My skin is losing its sheen.
I am old... wrinkled
Now I need some rest,
a peaceful solitary rest.