Monday, June 3, 2013

Poem for the Day - Beach Plum


Just like the name
We took them constantly
To the beach I mean
Our fun was incomplete
As always without them
They seemed to be satisfying
In a distinct way
And we fell again
For one another
Also with the beach plum.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

What if everyone was White Skinned?



I once had a dream everyone was white; in Africa, white; Asia, Australia, America, Europe, Middle East, I man everywhere white. Would the world be better to live in? Would people love each other more? Would there be less hate and killings?

The answers are NO! It is not what we look like that matters; being white doesn’t make us better than others, more comfortable, wealthier, prettier or more adorable. It is that unseen soul which is either good or evil. The skin is just a camouflage, a shield or covering.

If you’re white, Great! But your soul’s got no colour.

Adventure Series: Tales to Robin





continued tomorrow...

Poem for the Day - Mangoes


Mandy was familiar
Like a luscious mango
Smooth on the outside
Succulent looks too
Causing gents to stare
Smile as bright as the color
Hair as long as its fibers
And Mandy loved mangoes too.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Adventure Series: Tales to Robin



to be continued...

What if everyone was a Man?



A world full of just men would be a hard one. Men are hard workers and usually relax occasionally. The world would look like a factory where everyone would work all the time. In a world with men only, the only sports found there would be football, golf, cricket, baseball, boxing, wrestling and daring games.

There would be limited fun here for there would not be so much fun as when there are both genders. If everyone was a man, there would be a majority of selfish people; men are known to be very selfish, just minority of men think of others before themselves. But they would constantly have each others backs as most men rely on one another.

Poem for the Day - Custard Apple


His looks were scary
He was hard outside
But when we knew him
He was soft within
His looks were deceiving
No one knew ever
He was as a custard apple