The Serene Escape


I often find myself stuck in traffic
Rarely a spectator, often in the middle of the road
A flurry of motorbikes like swarms of bees
While buses block my view of the sky: limitless, blue, utterly unreachable

Look at the others taking a peaceful stroll in the pavement
It seems there is no need to remain within the traffic of the road
Yet something urges me to carry on; chaotic joy, chaotic misery…

But when the traffic is too much to bear
The pavement becomes too lifeless and deserted
I run towards the tall building on the right
Upon entrance, the hazy cool air brings comfort
Numbed memories of time in traffic

I feel the cold against my palm and shiver
Yes, the bars of this prison are plated with gold

They glimmer so exquisitely, no one sees a prison at all!

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