I like those morning rush hours
When time whizzes past like those motors
Streaks of moments that never stay
Perfectly clad they are, for the work-bound day
Yes, it may be a breadwinner’s daily chore
To hear out the buzz and buckle up;
With no hang over, no blues to show up
There is a goal at end, a duty to fulfil,
A day to work towards, a moment never to kill
The forerunner of his duties, as he mounts for the ride
He never stops by, ever astride
The rush it may seem in the morning saunter
But I see the clearing mists, the rising sun,
The rigour in that run, would anyone then stall or wander?
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