A note on signboard,
A hasty peek,
A careful tread,
Its a stride with pride.
A sulk on face,
At every turn;
Neither lamps burn,
Nor rises the sun,
To keep my run
Worth the turn.
A subtle voice
Of inherent hope,
Fuels my drive.
I could hear a mime,
That time is dime.
Yet the murmurs
To the craving ears,
Say ‘Bends are not ends’
The tunnel of turns unlit-
Is it my life?!
(A poem written from 4.30 to 4.58 pm,on 4th Jan,2013)
