well.. I have a female cousin in pakistan …for some wiered reason her internet nick is "Richard "…This summer when I visited pakistan I went to see her …This poem was prompted from my side after I had dinner at her house…so when I came back to the UK I sent her this poem…
**Richard's Seekh Kebabs**
On 29th of May, was the day
I went to my country with my pay
I was happy and wished nothing went bad
As I had to see my mom and dad
When I reached peshaar
The heat hit me as fire
Chapli kebabs, Tikas, and Karahis were a routine
Till I felt as a bloated bean
As I had seen many relatives last fall
I thought I wont go and see them all
But one of them I went and saw again
The one thats called richard but looks like Jane
As the time went she offered me something to eat
They were seekh kebabs OOH what a treat
There coloring was like burnt rocks
And they tasted like old socks
But to keep my host happy and content
I ate them all with out any repent
I was called for dinner the next day
hoping to god that the kebabs wont come my way
Surprised on the table to see them there
I asked richard were they well done or rare
The food turned out to be the best I ever had
I ate so much till they thought I was mad
It was only the day b4, that the kebabs wernt good to eat
I came to know this when i sat on the toilet seat
Thank You and take care
Its just a joke and not a snare.