Sail-ism

From the metro, she know not where to head
Donned with drainpipes, she began to tread,
Then she watched what ring she has worn on
And down the breast her glossy hair dangled on.
Besides parade of commuters, she ambled on the turf
And her destination was even beyond the roar of the surf.

So with a goal kept within- ‘to meet the unmet sniper’
Among influx of people, her eyes trolled him like a sniper.
No wonder, once again she dearly propelled her eyes out
With her neck fixed on, her hunt for him began to sprout
And before her last hurrah, an unfamiliar man greeted her
Standing on the side of the door, he smiled and stared at her.

She left the moorings of a man who failed to bid her bye-bye
Yet the echoes of her walking boots almost deafened the passer-by
And never did she turn back, until a familiar voice called her- ‘pal.’
A motherly call it was and she dare not to escape the unattended call
On turning back, there's no way to escape the encounter with a met man 
And cried a aloud cry on knowing him as ‘keta’- a man she was looking for.