Naveed Akram (15 December 1973 / London, England)
A sound uttered by the same sonnet is unique,
You bellow in the extreme, unlike my sonnet;
The laughter attached is liking me and you,
But my poetry has love behind it, behind it.
This simple recipe called sounds of letters
Places me to say what I like about the way;
It is the way of the proud men that I speak
And not of those who shun and become remorse.
This sound I read as a letter or two shall accompany
Me and others of the same crowd, calling them
Not ignorant people, not backward groups
And not stupid or horrendous individuals.
Comments about this poem (Sounds Uttered by Naveed Akram )
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