When I have chosen to pen down something that stirrs metruckers are busy to fly past the night-high way of my home side
I spare moments to observe the hidden hearts on the wheels
feel a lot left over
Is that I have a larger part akin to them
some times it looks like that only
"working for a target sake"
ends too hazy to negotiate
uncertain times hidden and let large and the sixth nerves left to negotiate
I will be busy after a few hrs
in another set of environs
the office
a lot of different world
but you remain with me with or without
I do let me stirred
if I have a love lost
but find hard to reply
my heart asks
is that
a too common factor around
I do realise
waivy and dotted thoughts
all point to uneasy truth
source: shipra.v
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