The competition

A Ferrari and a bicycle

Doesn’t vie for the top spot

In a race that the world knows is unfair;

For if there was a competition

Where the winner was judged

By the time spent in the journey,

For curiously appreciating the hill-top view

From every sharp turn,

For slowing down to let the stray dog pass

And for contemplating over

The aroma of wild flowers

While being nipped by the November air,

The cyclist would’ve indeed been

The winner.

Conflict

Cold shudder, now and then,

Melancholic angst reign;

Thousand words to console

And swooshing heavy breaths,

Diving into the soul

To feel uncanny depths.

Confused and colonized,

Living a life biased

'Cause we are civilized.

Following their idea of dreams

Shutting ears from painful screams

To be a part of a race,

To save their face,

The ones who’ve betted on you.

The Race

Brushing past me, like a thunder,

Went someone familiar;

I thought- Was it a blunder

To let him overtake me?

Damn, I had to be on last gear!

As he overtook me, he gave me a nudge,

But woke me up;

And developed in me a grudge,

That stirred me up!

I tried hard to catch up,

But the faster I ran, the more he paced up.

I kept running , sweating

Until the Sun shone before my eyes

When I realized what I was chasing!