Mean thoughts heavily tread
In my head; step all over.
They never manage to stride
Outside; make me coward.

Vicious turnabouts are designed
In my mind; go round, around.
They puff and pant circling
Anticlockwise, keep me dizzy-busy.

But only for a while, is the engine
Heated; ponders paths defeated
Under coolness, sometimes cruelness
Of whirling wheels: dignity's doom.

Kinder ideas create room, garage
What is said; condition muteness.
And a harboring meanness parks
Still; awaits green light and might!

K.Q.

Khalida,

I like the nuances in this. And I think the word, 'Anticlockwise,' is especially well chosen.

Peter

I like this a lot Khalida. Inspired by the frustration of Amman traffic?


Lana

Thanks , Peter. I appreciate your taking the time to read.

Lana, you can think of symbolic traffic as an instigator perhaps! Thanks for reading!