Reader. Writer. Dreamer. Technologist.
I always stand in queues, waiting for my turn
Sometimes giving into the line cutters, cursing them inside
I always drive between the lines while on road
And wait at the red lights, hearing the honking behind
There is a story in me,
Deep down, somewhere,
Waiting to find life,
On paper through me.
It wants to be told,
It wants to be heard,
It wants to be seen,
It wants to be felt.
“Hmm?”, he said, deep in his thoughts and work.