Splish splash! Memories flash. Sitting by the roadside window, I wonder about the phases, high and low, of the mysterious gift called life. The city lights are turning on as it is evening time. Sun is on the verge of going back to bed. Cloudy night seems to be offended. Moon has taken a day off for the night. Isn't it funny to say this weird line? The crowd is returning home. Someone might be waiting for everyone to welcome. (READ IN CAPTION) Trees are cooking their dinner. At the end of the day everyone wants to be a winner. But when it's time to look back on the leftovers, we see nothing is actually left there. Time goes on and so are we. Feeling high or low, we just want to flee. Is it wrong to say we run behind a mirage in a never ending desert? Don't stop but learn to wait, if not for anyone,
