Empty roads
Like blank sheet of papers
Get into the car
Hold the steering wheel
Tie the seat belt
Let us write
Tales of travel
Journals of journeys
Of water splashed on smiling faces
Of green mountains and valleys
echoing thousand stories.
The white snow our ink
Melting to melt our hearts.
The lamp posts our guide
As we find stories in this soft breeze,
On these quiet roads
Witnessing tales -
The lovers walking hand in hand
Silent - where eyes do the talking,
Dreaming of wedding rings and roses.
Covered by blood,
The site of accident,
Motorbike smashed,
Bystanders look and do nothing
Till siren of the ambulance is heard,
Heartbeat stops.
Children with school bags,
Giggling at silly jokes,
With weird haircuts and cigarettes
Pretending to be adults
Knowing not the real cost.
The streets sees it all -
Romance, tragedy, comedy.
Every walk is a story,
Every ride an unwritten tale.
A nice poetic imagination, Priyal. You may like to read my ars poetica named as (Poetic Sense-1) Thanks
indeed every walk is a story...every ride an unwritten tale.. a nyc poem..indeed..thanks dear for sharing... i invite u to read my poems..thanks
Nice concept, Amazing treatment. The poem gives us the joy of a travelogue. Thanks a lot. The streets sees it all - / Romance, tragedy, comedy. Every walk is a story / Every ride an unwritten tale.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful write Payal. Very true said Every walk is a story, Every ride an unwritten tale. But we don't know its destination....Loved it