a poem by Johnny Varghese

Okay, to be sure,
These times to endure,
And to get out of it,
Say, its quite a fit,
Cool mornings,
With no yearnings,
Till we see the sun,
And then the fun,
Like a fish without fins,
All the while,
Just to get out of our homes,
On our routine roams,
All the worry,
In the hurry,
And that it would have to last,
All along the day so vast,
Till we see the sun set,
And with our dripping sweat,
We leave for our dear homes,
Passing by the silent domes,
Of sleeping problem-less,
Beyond stress,
Eternally resting fellow beings,
The sun has fully gone down the horizons.