By Gaurav Parab
I am on my way to another city
I glance at my right; she sits straight and pretty
We are in a big bus; we may as well be in a little box
Confessing silently to sins committed over a million clocks
She turns to her right to consider the passing town
As my heart considers going up so it can go down
I clear my throat for the few words I plan to say
But then the driver manages to lose the way
She now turns her attention to me
I plead I am a free bird, begging not to be free
She judges it best to be a silent stranger
Yes, I sense the woman senses the danger
I say a few words about being old and wise
She nonchalantly separates the truth from the lies
She is clueless, yet she passes her sentence
The punch line to break the guilty suspense
She does not say a word, but I hear
She says, Boy, I can read you loud and clear
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