I stood by the roadside sweating,
Waiting for a ride home
When I saw a friend driving & he stopped.
I went in.
Our laughs sent renditions
To the contempt of onlookers.
We zoomed off still laughing.
We began to discuss Joy with joy.
I, explicating her beauty, to my friend,
Five hundred note pages cannot contain.
With the issue of Joy with joy
We got home and packed.
On the roadside I opened the door
A passing Okada hit the door, and had bruises
But my mind flew when I saw
The woman’s own he was carrying.
My friend yelled, I muted,
Gazed into the thin-air,
Began to sweat-out hot sweat than before
And my eyes were crimson now.
There was a mammoth audience
Looking at us without help, but pity!
Their help was badmouth
Which helped the anger in me arose:
They have wounded the Okada and the woman.
Was this not out of carelessness on the other side?
Our pace to the hospital
The recipients on white regalia
Demanded money:
No money, no treatment!
I watched the woman screaming out
The pains of the stitching.
I watched the Okada saved screaming
As if nothing happened.
I yawned.
By now,
The food in my tummy was gone.
It was a stressful experience
Indeed.
« return.