Thursday, April 3, 2014


Life is a voyage
And I live it out of the boxes –
Those fixed shape , brown color ones;
That I call as cartons
‘cause it has car in it.
I need a car –
And a driver too for this life
One who would let me
Observe and explore
From the passenger side
And listen to all the things I say
With most inaccuracy
And as much conviction.
It is in these cartons
That I will pack each week
Clearly labeled and sorted,
Preserved in old newspapers
And cushioned with the words.
Each carton I would then throw away
To the endless roads in life
And wish my experiences reach
Some dreamer like me
Who woyld follow the trails
and find me some day
Sitting idle on another road
Sorting my lonely carton
While others pass me by,
He alone would stop
And match the signs,
Match his heart to mine,
And make me his home-
No longer living out of a box
But for this shiny carton full of love.

1 comment:

Any thought ? Anything ...