23/08/2011

I tasted the coffee
I spat it out,
ran to the counter,
complained about the milk being spoilt.

Then I tried wheelie
with my brother on my back,
the bike ran into the river
and I landed on his chest.

With a bit of blood off our arms,
we stood in the river,
shirts off and laughing
at the pigeons being fat.

This is all that I remember from that day,
and it was my birthday.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Sad Girls

Sad girls? Sad girls aren't pretty. Not with their smudged kajal. Sad girls just need a guy. What an attention-seeking whore. S...