Ordeals Of A Roadside Can

Life is very harsh, and nauseous now
I’m being flung on the road
Where I pass my days in suffering
And pain, they show their football skills
And let go of their anger on my innocent
Colourful tin body, with their new
And ragged shoes, I manage to look
Into their eyes with no fear at all
With their kicking, bashing and smashing
I have started to develop small
Holes now, actually I was the one
Who was always ready to satisfy
Their thirst in the harsh summer,
I was being hold right next to their lips
And they couldn’t afford to drop
Me and I was being carried into
Their pockets, bags, in their
Expensive cars, deep freezers
And without my presence
Their every party was incomplete,
But as they say, life is harsh
And luck can Turn around
For good and for bad anytime
As it had turned for me,
When I was full and quenching
Their thirst, there was respect
But now when I am empty,
I only get kicks on the roads, gardens,
Playgrounds from all kinds of people
Be it children, teenage boys
Adults, and even the old people
Don’t spare me, I’m lying in
A pool of blood, with cuts and
Scars on my body which was once
Painted and Designed in a very
Beautiful way, but alas!
I’m being pounded, kicked, and crushed.
This is fate and I was born for this!