Taste of life

Let me tell you what I had for breakfast:

A mug of sweet, white milk of love.

A portion of sour, yellow lemons of pain.

A few slices of green, roasted bitter-gourds of indifference.

A couple of butter cookies of deception, and

some sips of purplish tonic of surprises good and bad.

What shall I have for lunch and dinner?

I await with a watchful tongue to savour.