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 holding right next to their lips

And they couldn't afford to drop

I 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!