18. Riddle Me This.
We come as a set,
In black and white.
In plastic or glass,
Or in porcelain light.
Rich houses or poor,
We're a common sight.
Pour us over,
Spoil it downright.
Hold us back,
It is bland and trite,
A pinch or a dash,
We make it right.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro