Saturday 28 January 2012

The Panacea

[if ever there existed one.]

A disastrous, hideous haircut
A hole down the front of my favourite shirt

Spilt milk and burnt toast
A simple breakfast gone to roast

No liquid in the flush-tank
and nil liquidity in the bank

A poor, help-less, broken heart
A broken bike with a broken kick-start

A hectic, demanding job schedule
Working nine-to-nine like a mule

The impossible choice between one's career
and the one who is near-and-dear

Re-tiredness of the wretched rat-race
Can all be cured by a smile on the face.