Think of the Mind

How liberated the mind is, the thought never really arrives in a busy life

Here, there, elsewhere; so many voices call, cajole, and contravene 

As if anchored to the demands of the world that pushes the body all along

Some mysterious meanderings coerce the mind to plan accordingly

All against the free background, the contrasting pictures of this life emerges

Languorous time confiscates freedom; as if slowly absorbing like a giant chasm

Confined to the commands and the fruition of someone else’s dreams

Stranded streets have to be traversed by the unwilling feet that scrape along

Thrifty smiles, scant respect, enough burden of stereotypes 

All along, the mind tied to the hectic world and the fleeting illusion of freedom


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