All of us exist in traffic,
Some walk, some in cars,
others in buses.
Dreaming destinations,
Charting paths.
Once in a while
gets stuck at a signal
or jammed along with others.
Rules can't be followed by the book,
But on how the rest
of traffic follows them.
We can't choose
Who our co-passengers are,
But only learn to respond.
Ask nothing more than
The privilege of driving.
Or maybe learn to strum
To a tune in a flow.
So that the face of your love
May look towards you,
Rather than be bored
looking out the window...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem