A Passing Show Poem by Akhtar Jawad

The girls and the boys,
Both are toys,
The remote control is in the hands of a child,
And the cells in the toys have a life
but the child is wild,
Sometimes he is annoyed with a toy,
May be a girl or a boy,
He breaks the toy.

Sweetheart, it was the child,
Who pressed a button,
Our eyes met,
I said, “I love you.”
You replied, “I love you too.”
The show started,
I kissed you,
Do you remember?
Courtship in the rains,
Courtship in moon lit nights,
Passions and emotions,
Songs and dance,
And the day on which,
We were engaged,
And the day on which,
We were married,
And our wedding night,
The climax of the show!

We reproduced,
A few more toys,
They were toys for the toys,
And our toys gave us,
Many more toys!

The child is hidden in us,
When we play he also plays,
What else is the world?
What else is the life?
A play or a show!

The child whispers,
I shall leave you now,
I have made the weather,
Too sexy and fine,
You should amuse me now,
Our toys are away,
We are alone,
The winter mild rains,
Are cold and exciting,
Clouds dance on skies,
To watch the show,
Moon and stars,
Are peeping through windows,
Nicely built by the naughty winds,
Let us amuse the child,
With a passing show!