Pothole to the Grave

Watching it sinking

Discouraging blinking

The pothole grew deeper and dark

We poked and we prodded

Its existence was lauded

The source I thought I could find

In the end, I was wrong

I retracted my song

About the depth of an underground mine

What it turned out to be

Was puzzling to me

A cellar to a building long gone

Excavation was in the plan

This hole could swallow a man

Backfilling was certainly a must

Down below there was rubbish

From broken pipes to shrubbish

Efficiently smashed and buried again

At last it was finished

Its size not diminished

But growing to a most unusual size

Now our parking lot’s blessed

With an even biggerish mess

An oddly rectangular ghoulish type square

I asked if it was a seasonal

A question quite reasonable

Since our pothole now looks like a grave.

Audio Version
(As it sounds in my head)

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