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Friday, May 9, 2008


Dawn it was 5 o`clock,
Jolted from slumber with the noise of cock.
Good was not the morning,
As I was mot looking charming.
Instigating mistake was not the intention,
Since in response I will get retention.
But was the fault in me,
Sitting on my head was a flea.
My bicycle was waiting for me in the stall,
I have never thought of such a fault before forestall.
Was to go for marketing early in the morning,
Grandmother was gazing as if she was frowning.
Alighting from house was the mirage,
That bicycle was not in the garage.
Resplendent was the star in front of me,
Resolving without perhaps was not free.
Elaborating moment was it,
As the time was absolutely fit.
Grandfather gave love on my face,
Red criss-cross was as playing a race.
Conscience went on gnawing grass,
As centre of viscera was on play with bass.
Then was `silver lining in my cloud`,
Servant was he who exclaimed in loud.
Bicycle was marooned in the stall,
`this` was his statement inside the hall.
Hammer hammered on my head,
All the mystery was confronting my fed.
Letting my folks conscious about the fact,
I was evacuated from menace in fact.
I wish no one should attach such a brain,
Whose screw can be washed as stain.
Rishabh Sharma

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