User Submission, Aditya Panja, Modified: November 16, 2012 12:24 IST
A hot cup of coffee, a French toast
No one around me, I'm my own host.
I sit in the balcony in my easy chair,
Looking at the rain, no thoughts no care.
I take a bit of the butter, milk and egg
Oh how I wish it was a tandoori chicken's leg
I can have it, all I have to do is make a call,
The phone's too far, my interest in chicken takes a fall
Leg on coffee table, I rested my head,
And in a silent whisper to myself I said.
Think boy think, the soft and juicy chicken leg,
Far better than your toast with butter, milk and egg.
Get up you lazy pig and make that call,
It would be so tasty in this rainfall.
But between me and phone, there is a long way
I assured myself, chicken we will have some other day.