Traffic

City is my favourite place
It’s where I can observe people
Leaving nobody to trace

There arrives an Audi at the signal
First to the notice of this curious little boy
Watching through with a big mull
He wears a tattered shirt
With a few buttons here and there
The TV inside amuses him more
While his bare feet hardly care
It’s a lovely hot sunny afternoon
When he wishes to dream a life
His pockets are torn, so are his pants
But the zeal is incomparably rife
Just then comes a dude with his glasses on
And halts just next to the Audi with an air
He looks at the tinted window beside
In a second, he’s busy playing with his hair
The boy turns to him, and back to the car
But the glass this time isn’t as clear
Instead he sees his own reflection
Except for the few seconds past cheer
His palms are stretched involuntarily
To no surprise, soon lands a note
It’s as green as the signal now
Another disgust goes down his throat
He comes to the side with heavy steps
The note is gone before he gets to whine
The cop shouts-Next time I catch you steal
I’ll make sure you pay the actual fine!
A faint smile spreads across his lips
And whistling he goes back to work
The signal is red again like the sun
And there stands an awesome Merc!

City is my favourite place
It’s where I can observe people
Nobody here cares to trace!

                                                        ~Shrey Gaur

                                                           Bengaluru, India

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