Looking At My Luck Poem by Naveed Akram

I crouched carefully with alert mind,
Only abandoning the sunrise and sunset;
Noting that the squirrels were in the dreams
To suspect us of mischief in the woods;
This care has never been shown to the weary,
Goals of splendour taste and touch us.

The reality has spoken with sealing and compromise,
Relentless persecution interrogates the young
Who made their fortune in lies
And more lies,
The real letters later emerge to contaminate
The minds of the spared.

My acts of ghouls and goblins bespoke
In the hills of the shepherds then in progress
With various sheep and other mutton,
The real lambs bespoke their fill,
These beasts beautifully sounded and licked
Like their parents who succeeded at their hardship.

Little do they mean the devastation so transported
Living in the past and future, a futile practice
Has been born to delegate the conference
Called nature, and this may bring me luck,
To call it the luck itself;
I once pondered until I dropped!