Help Is Not Available On The Streets..
Manual is sportier than an auto,
as there is no kick in the auto,
When driving, press the clutch,
Change the gear, push the accelerator,
The car runs faster than the heart,
Further than it reaches, to meet,
A lonely lady at the pedestrian bridge,
Swinging her legs as the bells that hung,
Looking at each and everyone who stop,
At the signal with haunted look sharp,
Well maintained lady with slender legs,
Wearing shorts and loose T shirt,
Black painted around her big eyes,
Torture, abuse, depression,
Chased her out to find the solace,
By looking at the ongoing vehicles,
I smiled at her for a while,
she was puzzled with no smile,
she might think that I would hug,
wipe the tear, wash out the worries,
I could smile at her to ease her pain,
no one dare to help when she was in vain,
I kept on smiling to soothe her heart,
Until the signal changed,
Gone was the lady behind,
Press the accelerator hard,
To mind my own business told,
Reach the destination on time,
To pick up the trophy sold.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Added by Poetry Lover
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