Every day I run in the rat race,
Unaware whom to chase.
Everyday I see the same birds,
Weaving the same threads
I am a bird who used to fly in a flock.
Alas!!Now I see a block
Everyone has taken their own way,
And I am left perching on the tree near the bay
For my nest,alone I ought to get the twigs
Alone I ought to collect the figs.
Have to fight against the air resistance,
To take a long flight at each instance
But when substance of determination make up your feathers,
Quest for your horizons becomes easy
Hope stands against all the weathers.
Dark clouds would become hazy.
Then all the destinations seems to be near,
And the vast sky is all your