An Honest tree

No restrictions dear friends!
And I breath all sort of air
From North, East, West & South.
That's why my fruits are so tasty
And please do not call them as illegitimate children!
I can whistle a Beethoven's great tune
But never play an instrument.

*(From an old prostitute's diary)

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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