Friday, December 11, 2015


Vehicles clutter the road,
and bustle to reach somewhere.
Amidst mayhem the car groans,
puffs its anger in the air.
Horns moan when lights change colour,
tho the path makes no headway.
In search of unknown wonder
people jostle night and day.
And all we do is adjust.
The web of thoughts collects dust.