My kitchen knife is a Vegetarian. Prefers to cut onions, Tomatoes and potatoes. Refuses even to consider Working on the paneer, To flaunt its vegan-ness. But occasionally it Slips off a bit to cut My finger a little, Claiming it's a cheat day. Just like my tongue- Preference to just a bit Of salt and sourness- Abstaining from any Form of sugar. But then again, Its boneless attribute, That takes it anywhere to Everywhere and it Tumbles sometimes- Utters the 'F' word without Any restraint. My pens that lie and The glasses that color My sight sometimes.. Just like Uncle Sam. He breeds doves, Preaches peace. Holds conciliations to Sign treaties. But then, when he drinks A little on weekends, The chauvinism his under His pink coat comes out, Knocking random doors. Compelling him to Rape a couple of poor Countries, quoting- How their cigarette smoke Is a potential Mushroom cloud.