An Honest Tree Poem by nimal dunuhinga

An Honest Tree



No restrictions dear friends!
And I breath all sort of air
From North, East, West & South.
That's why my fruits are so tasty
And please do not call them as illegitimate children!
I can whistle a Beethoven's great tune
But never play an instrument.

*(From an old prostitute's diary)

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
nimal dunuhinga

nimal dunuhinga

kalubovila East, Sri Lanka
Close
Error Success