Running Late Twirled Comical

Running Late Twirled Comical

It is not in my day-to-day diary,

Missing to relish the morning ray.

Did the alarm scream in my head,

To wake me up for my review test?

I had to skip the idea of brushing,

My full attention was on rushing,

No time wasted in eating & bathing,

My heels slowed my swift running.

Stumbling on the run-down street,

My head banged on the lamp post,

I ran to the metro with a puffy crown,

Ohh! I sensed it right: my fate’s frown.

I landed on my face outside my coach,

When the crowd shoved minus reproach.

I was not keen to dash into Mr serious,

He brushed my lips with great pleasure.

I sprinted towards my office exam,

Clutching my broken heel and laptop,

Nursing my bruised front and elbow,

Putting Bolt to shame for the show.

What can I be of more humour?

When I met the Mr. interviewer,

With my discoloured expression,

I dashed straight to the Tarzan.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *