The Tunnel is Mine

 (By Dipendra Gautam, the poem was written by me in 1880 before reincarnation)

Every morning since I owned a Volkswagen

I would commute the same route

Follow the same tunnel

Fallow my time thinking of my big head and dimming the incoming light

Falter the savvy apartheid

Furlough is what I would expect dawn to dusk

It was the year 1840.

**

In the spring of 1840

Savvy breezes tantalize me

Spring has sprung

I did not care about all the flowers

I did not care about all the birds who sang for me

In my backyard, stayed a robin redbreast

Her sonnets blasé me

She yells at me to go out

I loved my Volkswagen

Lambo, Ferrari, and many more were to follow

The tunnel was mine!

Cause, every day everyone was passing through it

I sat down in an ominous morning

'CHANGE' remained a daydream throughout the tea break

Cause, my Volkswagen was the first to pass-through

Straight through to the tunnel

**

There came another spring

Bloomed and faded

Seasons and seasonings

Beacons and the birds

Music and moments

Tides and treads

All in one in my Volkswagen

I denied spring existed

Avant-Garde maple leaves

Daunting and drowsing

Yet, spring did merely exist!

 

And me lets the show go on...

Me drives the Volkswagen!

 

It is now the year 1880

I drive the same Volkswagen

Ailed and archaic

Stoic and stagnant

Yet me drives the Volkswagen!

Deep down the soliloquy

Lies a vicious lullaby

Untying some tiny blooms

By the tired river and the bridge

I commute through to the same tunnel

Cause, me drives the Volkswagen

Me yells, “Cause, everyone has to pass through to my tunnel!”