Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)

I was employed for longer,
Guarded by the many gardens,
Repeated were the heavens
Antagonizing the theatrical show.
Her eyes guarded entrances,
And brightly varnished wood
Lay there stinging and breaking away.

Gravity stuck to the ways of the wood,
And people who live in the wood
Stared blindly at shreds of the string,
Looking one way and another,
In order to gape at first measures of mornings.

Breaking your back in heaven,
Can be daunting, and can be ferocious
Work for the minor players of the very dust,
Or rather the very grass.