Running Late Twirled Comical
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Running Late Twirled Comical


It is not in my day-to-day diary,

Missing to relish the morning ray.

Did the alarm scream in my head,

To wake me up for my review test?


I had to skip the idea of brushing,

My full attention was on rushing,

No time wasted in eating & bathing,

My heels slowed my swift running.


Stumbling on the run-down street,

My head banged on the lamp post,

I ran to the metro with a puffy crown,

Ohh! I sensed it right: my fate's frown.


I landed on my face outside my coach,

When the crowd shoved minus reproach.

I was not keen to dash into Mr serious,

He brushed my lips with great pleasure.


I sprinted towards my office exam,

Clutching my broken heel and laptop,

Nursing my bruised front and elbow,

Putting Bolt to shame for the show.


What can I be of more humour?

When I met the Mr. interviewer,

With my discoloured expression,

I dashed straight to the Tarzan.


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