Our say

One last pothole poem

26th May 2010

Our Pothole Poetry competition earlier this year was a huge success, with some 350 entries being submitted through the site or our Twitter feed.

The winners were announced last month, but Potholes.co.uk was contacted this week with the offer of a late, late entry. Not only that, but it didn’t confirm to the rules of the competition so woudln’t have been eligible anyway.

That said, we thought it summed up most, if not all, of our users’ feelings about potholes in a lucid, rather sweet, way.

So thank you, Maryse Dowling, wherever you are.

Potholes, potholes, how can it be,
In this Health and Safety society,
That you abound, and travel free,
To hurt the cars and bikes and me,

You numbers keep growing,
With roads overflowing,
New speed bumps appear!
New pavement bite here!

But why, why, oh why,
Do potholes make us fly?
And we really, really do try
To make them listen on high

Yes, your numbers abound,
As we've already found,
But you make us sad, mad and bad,
To have you all fixed would make us glad.

Billy Shakespeare would be proud, Maryse....