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.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Rahul Aithal

I am from Mumbai, India. Composing poems gives me immense pleasure. Few poetic sites I write on are -,, and, recently Avant-Garde-Writer's Haven (on Facebook). You could browse my other writes on my private blog, I am glad to have joined this site, thanks to Louis. I hope to add value and get the group going.

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