I feel a winter morning breeze,                                                       
se­nding the smell of percolating coffee and the buttery toast 
from the street vendors.

The cold wind hit my face

One.

Two..

Three…

I can no longer see,

I can no longer smell,

I can no longer hear,

But I feel tears in my eyes,

Then I fasten my steps,

Then I stop.

I stop in the middle of the street,
to look at this car that had a lonely look to it.

Are you lonely,
standing still alone at the empty parking lot
on a brutally cold day

Are you lonely
waiting for your man,
taking you to the road,

And you,
On a excursion to the world.


Why are you still here standing still,
like I am still standing still here,
far from my home,
alone,
living in this lonely, lonely world,
where everything is crammed by the influx of people
from all over the world,
hit, squeeze and hurt someone to survive,
in this congested island.

Why are you here standing still
And why am I here standing still

Yet,
gusty wind hits and hits and hits
hard, hardER and HARDER,
                                                         ­      
But I no more feel the cold,
I no more feel my body paralyzed,
and I,
no more,
I no more feel my eyes pouring the water out.

But I feel my heart lurching.
And my heart aches,                                                           ­           
whole day,
till the sun finally goes down.