The pair of three.
Alarm set at 5 am sharp.
Waked up at 8, with a dirty burp.
Yawning like a monkey, scratching heads.
Planning for the pizza, end up with the boiled eggs.
Now time to take bath, every possible force is applied to let that left toothpaste out.
Ready at 12, to take their girlfriends out. But, shit! the empty pockets shouting so loud!!
Now time to sing a sad song.
Bottle in their hands, and tears in eyes, planning to become a monk.
Now No one left to clean their house. The three cried.
A new girl comes, shows sympathy towards them. A smile on their face, like India gave the sixers thrice.
Sad converted to romance, violins around their head, seems nothing happened yet.
It’s 10pm at a clock.
With the light of hope, they are back home.
Party at 11, it can be their golden day.
All the three are tired, slept at 3, with the dreams of “yes, yes, yes”.
Waked up at the same time, with the same dirty burp, read “I hate you” at 8:01.
Eyes wide, body active, like the lemon does to hangovers.
Oh no! time to become ‘again a new lover’.