My sour days

When someone throws his dog at you
and you scream your lungs out,
not once but thrice,
and people just stare, as if they know what you're all about.
Thats when you know,
its one of your sour days, saying "hello!".

One perfect morning
with your favorite music on,
you forget your cellphone in a bus..
and chase police station but the bus is gone.
All hopeless, yet somehow the quest continues
pays off in the end, but with sour hues.

Sometimes its so sour, it burns your tongue.
Your memory tricks you in doing things
that make a fool of you around..
you hope they'll fly away, as time has wings
but instead right back, the sour days swing.

Its like 19 people missing their train
running station to station, with heavy bags.
Not angry, not grim,
just sour, looking like rags.

And having a cranky old man as your driver
when you're on a "enjoyment-centric" trip;
is just as sour as you can sip.

Of the many flavors of life
this one, so frequent
yet forgettable
that sometimes you don't even see it
like some transition state
subtle and unstable.