Through the grime and grit and dust and stink
Worn buildings slump near the parched asphalt roads
Stepped upon by many a person,
Raced upon by many a wheel,
The roads have led many to their destinations.

Is life a pyramid, a beacon to the gods?
Climbing to your height in life, growing old to die?

Or is it a pond of stones?
Stepping gingerly, anticipating each move
Where a mistake can lead to death?

Oh shapes and synonyms do me no good
From where do I venture next?

Road, where will you take me? 
Hand to my ear, whispering ninnys claim
"The decision must be yours alone"