The Morning Blues...

Sleeping late at night,
Getting up later than I should have,
Cribbing over the fact that I am a fool,
Getting ready in a haste,
Skipping breakfast,
Gulp down tea which burns my tongue,
Get into the overcrowded bus,
Watching the bodies hang from the door,
Like useless old flags:
The stench rising inside the bus,
Through the eyes and the fingers:
Reaching a little late to my destination,
And then reminded of the fact
That though I had sealed my lips,
I was shouting all the while,
At nobody and just about everybody,
On people and things alike;
The barier of conciousness leaped over,
And here I am saying SORRY:
TO all of them...

8.20 a.m