Friday, January 9, 2009

Precious possessions from our private garden

When the angels decided to smoke cigars,
When the cupids shot, not arrows but paper rockets,
When the love struck birds had a light snack of Britannia biscuits,
When the sky wanted some wood work amongst the clouds,
Blessed was our private garden with all the 'Trash'



Well educated, upper-middle class folks living in luxury and super-luxury apartments, when it comes to civic sense = Zero

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