Thursday, 7 November 2013

Rush Hour Traffic

Bodies pressed closely yet none is aroused
Curses gain freedom, as though once chained to the tongue
Melodies of un harmonious sounds fill the air
For order has been temporarily laid to rest

Time becomes the elusive enemy
Music is addressed as a companion
Thoughts don the cloak of distraction
As the eyes rove like an all knowing seer

Not all shall make it to the finish line
Some cars  will be carried on a stretcher
Others will say its last prayer
This race is only for the hardened


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