A Poem
Nothing is certain,
in this uncertain world.
The number of counts
of one's breath,
The number of flaps
from a bird's wings.
One thing is certain,
many do say,
As whatever takes birth
has to meet death someday,
but even one's day of death
is uncertain too.
By :- G.S.VasuKumar
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment