When I was four, I painted the wall dirty
spoiling, my dad’s big party.
said he, “you do nothing right”
“now, get out of my sight”
When he was four, my son painted the wall dirty
spoiling, my carefully planned party.
“continue, son”, said I, “though it sucks”
“your modern art will sell for big bucks”.
9 responses so far ↓
1 nirmal // May 25, 2007 at 4:15 pm
good poem. please keep it up.
2 vijay // May 26, 2007 at 1:32 am
Thanks Nirmal
3 B Ayyappan // May 26, 2007 at 5:26 am
Deiii solavae ella?!
4 B Ayyappan // May 26, 2007 at 5:28 am
with my expression i have given a non existing website for ref
5 vijay // May 26, 2007 at 6:00 am
Not bad da, you’ve got nice imagination in naming your site. Google alavukku un “non-existing” website-ku traffic varanumnu vaazhthukiren
6 Tamil selvan // Jun 4, 2007 at 4:44 am
nice poem, keep going.
7 vijay // Jun 4, 2007 at 4:47 am
Thanks for your comment Tamil, you’ve been kind
8 Minal // Nov 30, 2007 at 9:29 am
hahaha
that is goood!!:)
i mean modern is beyond my comprehension so i too would probably say the same thing
9 vijay // Nov 30, 2007 at 9:34 am
Thank you Minal
I went to your blog, from Abhishek’s FB profile. You have a very nice blog, glad I found it.
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