Naveed Akram Poems
For Every Storm
For every storm there is a room
And find the palace now,
From deserts are a tomb and gloom,
Where clothes must just allow.
The clothing kisses us on cheek,
When effort made us worse,
The cloth we wear is rather chic,
And worry is a curse.
The storm shall grow at all the speed
That problems make us mad,
You did not follow, or then bleed
As madness is your dad.
Fathers And Mothers
The fathers of the lane are stressed,
Let their memories flow from blessings,
And their dignity be addressed.
My factory is the factory of places
Widely viewed and scrutinised.
My home is the home of the warriors,
In it the messages are received,
Acting with actual troops called children.