Thursday, September 29, 2011


Wandering clouds inside
When all alone I ride
An up-thumb blocks my way.
Could he be a thief?
An innocent might he be.
So what?
Where to drop -
The bare minimum to be talked.
With someone sitting behind
Thinking aloud is to be perturbed.
Lost amidst the Clouds
I drove past
With no compulsive reasons to stop.
This Non-stop ride
might at any moment
Drop the driver on the road
Thumbing -up for a ride.

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