Manual is sportier than an auto, <br />as there is no kick in the auto, <br />When driving, press the clutch, <br />Change the gear, push the accelerator, <br />The car runs faster than the heart, <br />Further than it reaches, to meet, <br />A lonely lady at the pedestrian bridge, <br />Swinging her legs as the bells that hung, <br />Looking at each and everyone who stop, <br />At the signal with haunted look sharp, <br />Well maintained lady with slender legs, <br />Wearing shorts and loose T shirt, <br />Black painted around her big eyes, <br />Torture, abuse, depression, <br />Chased her out to find the solace, <br />By looking at the ongoing vehicles, <br />I smiled at her for a while, <br />she was puzzled with no smile, <br />she might think that I would hug, <br />wipe the tear, wash out the worries, <br />I could smile at her to ease her pain, <br />no one dare to help when she was in vain, <br />I kept on smiling to soothe her heart, <br />Until the signal changed, <br />Gone was the lady behind, <br />Press the accelerator hard, <br />To mind my own business told, <br />Reach the destination on time, <br />To pick up the trophy sold.<br /><br />veeraiyah subbulakshmi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/help-is-not-available-on-the-streets/
