My Dangerous Friend Poem by Naveed Akram

My door is a square, my door is a square,
Its dangerous appearance resents the air;
I have to object to the pleasant mien of my friend,
A pen has been lifted, the ink has been set
And my friend shall enter the head of my heart,
As a dungeon is before a company called us.

My corridor coasts in arid air, mildewy regions,
Opening the liars from the prisons of old,
At the sound we hear their lies and pies
So burnt by their breakfast fires, we had
To elevate the corridor and the walking in it;
The sea of the dungeon mud was a marsh or sewer.