Every time I get up and sit in my car,
seems like I sit straight with moments,
I blur into the traffic in front,
I drag my car through the way,
No matter whether I want to or not …
I sign while pressing the paddle,
I cry while dragging my feet,
It’s not the pain which is unbearable sir,
It’s the worry, the truths that I choose randomly,
which I write as tacit lies…
Ever time I sit in my car,
looks like a road starts jumbling with my arrival,
cars colloid, people jerk awake,
and me ? I just see the blurred view and the endless road..
I don’t care about my car sir,
It’s the fear, the decisions that I choose randomly ,
which I write as a tacit lies…
Sometimes I want to drive at beach,
where those waves flood my car,
Sometimes I yearn for silver stones,
which glow in the moonlight,
Sometimes I expect this to happen with me,
To let me know that,
the road I drive through is lot better..
The life I have got is a lot better ..
In fact to let me know that I don’t have choice of road..
and I should get used to it and drive ..