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