The day bus drivers will drive their buses
As buses and not motorcycle
The day motorcyclist will feel he is a man
Not a mole scurrying in small spaces
The day Auto drivers will drive Auto-rickshaws
And not fly a helicopter
The day when man will stop running
In green light, like a sprinter
The day Bicycles will not run on footpath
Flagged vehicle will not own traffic cops
Flagged vehicle will not own traffic cops
And the day when race of lifetime
To cross the signal stops
I will not wish for good luck when you are gone
I will not wish for good luck when you are gone
And pray till you are home
WAH WAH,
ReplyDeletefor the readers - "the poet wrote these line when she suffered in traffic(like always)"
The poet has crafted the true picture of the "Survival Series" that we play on roads
applause applause applause
The poet bows to the applause!!
ReplyDeleteindeed the poet suffer in traffic everyday!! and today it just came out ...:)