System

The wires are cluttered and the poles keep their stand, the

gulmohur, well is growing more than planned, the roads are full 

with us and some rains edges are broken and the mornings, 

are same.

The same is to change and make it new, for a few I know 

and leave rest to plough.

Machines keep rushing and new are made and

also minds love that change. Walls are to be painted

and so we change clothes, and places and men

we change all close, then make new friends 

and break all done to find new ways for just our sons.

Clouds keep coming and going as they like, and change the

seasons on there own sweet like, they don't ask me 

what I like and neither to the ones who live

on its sight, 

The system is strange as it doesn't meet all,

things rupture in time till it reaches where

asked.

But, he talks to me day in and out, and doesn't let

me speak my million shouts, he asks my life, my

day and Monday still forget's to ask how was I 

today.

I stare at him for hours along and love him for he

is learned and sound, he loves to play and

write and help and always tips me when I

sell. I know he's a little boring and dark but

has a sharp brain with golden heart. But whatever he's made its special

I know, as he's in all there what we see around.