Jammed in the traffic of thoughts,
Listening to the grey drone of the radio.
The fragile mind gawked from within,
With an unconscious blankness.
A whimsical melody fluttered in,
A familiar but forgotten sound.
It was a laughter in the mind,
A giggle of a passing thought.
A thought of a floating balloon,
Drifting away in the April sky.
But the white noise of rationality,
Jolted the mind back to reality.
Dusted away the powder blue smile,
Reproached its futile silliness.
Livid, awoken, the heart responded,
Queried the lost crimson glow.
Heaved a shingle of frustrated mineral,
Cleaved cracked the furrowed forehead.
Clutter-clunk gears rotated within,
In convenient symphony of a single note.
Looked closely upon each however,
Found none bared the man’s name.
Planted, set & fixed deep inside,
Were gears of a worldly industry.
A social creation of uninventive hand,
Turning flesh into steely engine.
Deep in a forgotten nook,
Lived a sparking synapse.
The heart skipped & beat upon it,
A silvery tune chimed within.
The whirring gears spun in disarray,
Broken, torn they spun & sprang.
Twisted the gaze from the monochrome road,
To the azure vivacious sky.
The radio squeaked and sang,
Of a world of sea breezes and sands,
Of tinted spheres of dreams.
Dawned upon then the clunky mind,
It is not a cog in the falling metal giant,
But a lord of its own fairy tale.