I am thinking of some lines
With no actual intent of writing
Many thoughts are flowing
Particularly, right now
The songs that are playing in my ears
Some beats my head a shake
Others don’t really
But I listen to all
Neither skipping
Nor repeating
I was thinking of a line as this
“Myself in me”
Until I came to a train stop
Until two ladies and a boy
In their pink and black overcoats came in
The one in the pink must be mother
And the one in the black must be mother’s mother: Grandma to that little boy
Who must be around 5 years
Of many thoughts today
That was running with the flow in my mind
Came to a distraction
And I actually I wrote this.
This if you call it a poem
Or if you don’t: a distraction.
I am distracted with thoughts
Wandering Thoughts 