POems

I wake up every morning
With a ray of sunshine

Put on my glasses
And walk to the door

And in the darkness
I pick up something white

White symbolises peace
But this white newspaper
Contains nothing but tales of sorrow
With a rare happy story

Before my day begins
It ends

So many bad and good things are happening every day


But why are the murders and everything not nice on the front page

And everything else at the back