My Fingers Poem by Naveed Akram

The fingers are the elusive elements of our youth,
You had just built your hands from the orders of care.
Our melting points are subtle and completely arousing,
Let the fingers of your handsome hands be enticing
So that dreadful lives are banished and corrupted.

Just buildings, just orders are enough for the forces of life,
My managing is my concession, mine is the oceanic wave.
It is wooden and terrible, the cane of youth smashes yours,
When flight answers the stable sword, deserters are captured,
Mutiny is about, policies are corrupted, when mutiny.

Life of the boards is a living calmness, offering young drifters
A chance to heal, towards the harbours of youth - an aim.
Life is now death, and your mind is enormous, but my asking
Of questions delights, forming weeds in the garden, forcing
Worries and words; we are blessed by the suddenness of yours.