One day I shall be leaning back
My tired self reclined on the couch
Reading a magazine knowing that
All’s well.. I’ll feel a touch..
A little child nagging on the loose end
Of my scarf.. their little eyes twinkling
I’ll know I’ll have to answer or I’ll hear no end
Not sure if it’s going to be that way
Or I’m going to have to talk
If it’s going to be a tiring day
Or a lazy one I now mock
The question arises
How many kinds of people exist?
For one, I can say good or bad
Or I can educate about a taboo
I can talk of clichéd philosophy
And of genders too.
The answer either way for most..
And I shall say foremost
This is a bizarre flu
For the right answer is three
A man, the other and a lady