I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth, I am dissolved into air. What am I?
A man is looking at a photograph of someone. His friend asks who it is. The man replies, “Brothers and sisters, I have none. But that man’s father is my father’s son.†Who was in the photograph?
There were two grandmothers and their two granddaughters.
There were two husbands and their two wives.
There were two fathers and their two daughters.
There were two mothers and their two sons.
There were two maidens and their two mothers.
There were two sisters and their two brothers.
Yet there are only six, who are buried here,
All are born legitimate and relationships clear.
How can this happen?
You are driving down the road in your car on a wild, stormy night, when you pass by a bus stop and you see three people waiting for the bus
An old lady looks as if she is about to die.
An old friend who once saved your life.
The perfect partner you have been dreaming about.
Knowing that there can only be one passenger in your car, whom would you choose?
