The Road

Trapped like a bird in a cage
My life is only beige
For generations, I’ve been trampled
Like dead bodies after a battle

I lead to the unknown
To popularity and being alone
I’ve no nose, but others can sense
My unifying presence

I am boiling, I am freezing
I am the one to cause speeding
I lead to regions, hamlets, cities
To Melbourne, Rome, Mississippi

Generations of people
Have walked my steep hills
With goods to unload
For I am a road