Its dawn with trees, laughing birds
The opened doors of washrooms,water dripping as icy silence in basins
Its her laptop on side table,the waking for the day
The kitchen in its conversations for the things yet to come
She rides off outside,a turmoil in her mind
Roads of competition,old same tale

He ,s leaving for his office with grief from last night
Boiling tired stories circling in mind
The hollow blank streets have usual touch
A touch of coming going,serenity with rush
He ,s leaving for his office,he,s leaving home
She...