AN ONION

I was pottering around the kitchen trying to cook up something to impress my wife when it suddenly struck me that I hadn't written a poem for quite awhile now. Therefore, to make amends I decided to cook up one then and there. Needless to say that my attempt at cooking up a poem ended up as a fiasco for I only ended up messing the dish that I was preparing as well as the poem that I was cooking. Rather than pleasing my wife, I ended up being the cause of her pulling a long face (actually, the long face suits her more than the attempt at a pleasant face that she makes). Having made her day or rather her night unpleasant, I realised that it would not be fair on my part if I did not share my poem with you my friends just as I had shared my dish with her. So I now place this dish before you my friends for your appetite.

The world is nothing but an onion

It only makes you cry

Nothing but a tangy, tasty onion

Only when we do it fry…..

The seven worlds are nothing but an onion

Worlds which are not just independent

But layers of the same single onion

Perceived to appear different

The world is nothing but an onion

It only makes you cry

Nothing but a tangy, tasty onion

Only when we do it fry…..

The world is pungent like an onion

It can make your mouth to stink

Even the strongest who are like iron

Are polluted in a wink.

The world is nothing but an onion

It only makes you cry

Nothing but a tangy, tasty onion

Only when we do it fry…..

The world is as necessary as an onion

It helps prepare a tasty dish

To make a sweet life out of an onion

You have to sauté it as you wish

The world is nothing but an onion

It only makes you cry

Nothing but a tangy, tasty onion

Only when we do it fry…..

P.S.: Don't try to take the fork & knife to attempt murdering me for that is the prerogative of my wife.