Broken Mouth
My son has broken mouth- confused creature carrying questions on his palm
Wherever he goes, he drops them on anybody’s face
He asked me; Dad, why is my mother called your wife?
It is because she is my WI-FI. She bickers, shouts and entertains me non-stop
Again he asked me Dad; why is my mother called your helpmate?
It is because she in my hell-mate- generous with her hot tongue
As we traveled he asked; why is Member of Parliament called Honorable?
It is because they are hollow-balls- full of space with hot air
In the evening at home he again asked; Da why does a dog bark?
It is because it bites and bites and bites even shadows of things.
In Super Market he inquired, Dad, why can’t a doll talk?
It is because it used to talk too much. The mouth was block by an angry God
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