A pair of shoes laces beyond the grasp of the tangible.
Your lovable potty pot I am a dirty pot All white, and often too hot! I get cleaned often too But I remain dirty more-often-than-not.
By Heena Khan5 years ago in Poets
Son: What is a new year, Mom? Mom: It is a beginning of a solar year … a fresh cycle of earth around the sun. Son: Why do we not measure time according to the moon?
When people get loved a lot by a lot of people, They do not appreciate love of little people. There was once little Martha, living in shanties across the road
