Just another day

In a cold morning,
Sifting through her bed,
Still lurking behind the quilt,
She struggles to think of the day that awaits,
For her to run with wheels of the tramp,
To follow the sun, throughout,
And also, when it shreds down the ramp.
She always thinks about existence of humanity,
Is it a deed that strange,
That she could not figure out the generalities,
Of the journey, she is completing with each passing year,
What if she stops right there,
Inside her quilt,
Shunning the wheels fixed to those dragging gears,
What if she covers her up again and dream,
The dream that’s not a mystery,
Where there are answers for every scripted history,
Of the questions she has from the life,
The random, comforting dreams,
Where she doesn’t have to imply,
Her beliefs, her actions, her tolls, her trends,
Oh let’s not wake up, she thinks,
She closes her eyes again.

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