And Only Bird Flu Is A Pandemic. Poem by Hardik Vaidya

In the park, a river, a rivulet
I was holding my daughters hand,
The river was excited,
The rivulet was routined.
Dad I have a question.
The sun was rising, the birds chirping.
The rivulet was trying to find excuses.
You ask too many questions.
The river was brimming, the fish were swimming.
Dad I HAVE a question.
The rivulet was yearning for a coffee and was boring.
You ask TOO many questions.
The river was wide, as pure as eyes
Daddy dear perhaps you don't have the answers.
The Rivulet ran into a sand bed, felt a little light.
Shoot.
You mean like the Americans?