My Pug Marks

Random thoughts, Plague my mind. Like a Bee-hive, Buzz and grind. Old gramophone record, Playing a crumpled symphony. Like a noisy ATM, Shunting out money. Atlanta International Airport, Flights coming in and moving out. In eerie silence, They all tend to shout. 10 movies, Playin together. Like a colony of ants, Towards dead insect they gather. Everything moves, From dawn to dusk. Hazy Plots, And my random thoughts.

I wander without fright, Growing bit bit like stalagmite. But from the sane world people come, Beating their mouthful drum. And me they try to stow, With their silly innuendo. I don't move their way an inch, Coz itz not a dream; that I'll wake by a pinch. They finally move n let me go, Wander without a tormented brow. Lust carries me, sometimes it is pain. At times it is a purpose, at others - vain. We are tired, say legs to brain, Shut Up you two - I know you will sustain. And I keep growing bit bit, Like a stalagmite, Unaware of the chaos, On rendezvous with stalactite.