Pages

Wednesday, 2 December 2015

The Market


It is a market road
Where many legs tread
Bare or protected

It is a market road
Where many people pass
With purpose to stay, trade, and gain
Or just for the fun and passage there in

Many roads lead to the market
There is the road of money
The road of flattery
The road of force or threat
The road of physique and strength
And there is the road of attitude
Even thuggery is a road of wonder
The road of flesh and red walls
And there is the road of ‘‘just don’t know why’’

The market is restricted to no one
But widely open and free to all
Who is willing and capable of passing through

And there is a market with just one door
Protecting honour and pride
Even with security orderliness
Yet, anybody super can go in, and roam round

A market is a market
He who secures a market as an abode
Is just a keeper, a watch or a guard
And a room turned to a market
Loses its pride, privacy, and honour
But some markets be, to survive

No comments:

Post a Comment