A burdened backpack,

         and an empty can of water

         aging  with  the darkness

          of a Saturday night

alone and cold,

on a road that stretches into horizons

trying to hitchhike

a

ride back home,

 minutes grow into hours

and hours into eternity

              people drive fast,

             people drive slow,

              lively and happy

              sad and disdain

               all pass by,

               in faces...

 casting moving shadows,

 from neon lights

I wait tired and long

counting wheels and models

but no one wants to go back home

either I should cease dreaming

or

they  should run out of fuel...........

 

~Sunil Emjay~

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