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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required One fine late midnight coils back the whole universe And asks me in eager voice, what is the source of the race of man? In sotto voice i whisper in his ears that it is God who created Adam first Infuriated he becomes and rushed down with a loud bang And spread all over like a huge carpet as if there is no end Meanwhile he, in an isolated island, met with a bearded man And learnt from him who learnt from a pecking woodcutter That its beak is longer, sharper and stouter than rest of the birds And this happens due to his repeated pecking And he pecks repeatedly to fit in the policy of survival of the fittest So far so nice except the mercilessness of the strong In killing plundering and invading whoever is poor and weak Here is not the end of the story; It gave the breaded man more, a great hint That life struggles to survive and struggling evolves into evolution Pay attention to the great game, the race man is not from the race of man Man is from monkey, so, all the monkeys are our forefathers There is nothing wrong in it, After all we are all respectful to our ancestors, Sorry, to lovely monkeys except human beings. Till this turn of logic there is no darkness No end of the world, We are only sons and daughters of monkeys and not the bitch. But there is a huge problem to the universe Being confused he crawls secretly into my rooms before the night’s death And charged me red faced why did I tell him a lie? No, i did not tell you a lie, I answer In fact we are both correct, he tells his story and I tell mine
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