Naveed Akram

Gold Star - 20,708 Points (15 December 1973 / London, England)

Naveed Akram Poems

4281. Well, Don'T Die! 12/16/2014
4282. I See Your Faith 12/16/2014
4283. My Servants Must Work 12/16/2014
4284. Take My Honey 12/16/2014
4285. I See That Love 12/17/2014
4286. Clarified Heart 12/18/2014
4287. Be Near Heaven's Door 12/18/2014
4288. Know Like Flowing Water 12/19/2014
4289. A Worker 3/27/2015
4290. Overgrown 3/27/2015
4291. Nothing More Helpful 3/27/2015
4292. Black Is Godly 3/28/2015
4293. Illustrious Device 3/29/2015
4294. Heavenly Affairs 3/29/2015
4295. If I Should Die 3/29/2015
4296. The Skull 3/29/2015
4297. Soldiers In Rage 3/30/2015
4298. To Deceive Me 3/30/2015
4299. On The Front And Left 3/30/2015
4300. Of Reactions 3/31/2015
4301. A Caged Moment 3/31/2015
4302. Long And Tall 3/31/2015
4303. Telling Rights 4/3/2015
4304. Calm Appearance 4/4/2015
4305. Some Sort Of Miracle 4/4/2015
4306. A Few Sad Wars 4/6/2015
4307. I Have Painted Dragons 4/6/2015
4308. Tiny Humans 4/6/2015
4309. Golden Goblets 4/6/2015
4310. No One Is Counting 4/6/2015
4311. Inspire The Tearful Man 4/6/2015
4312. Restless Souls 4/6/2015
4313. So Eloquent 4/7/2015
4314. Verses After Verses 4/10/2015
4315. Communicate Through The Heart 4/16/2015
4316. Sacred Story 4/16/2015
4317. Lonely Galaxy 4/16/2015
4318. I Have Many Spells 4/16/2015
4319. Colour Of War 4/17/2015
4320. In This Room I Shine 4/18/2015
Best Poem of Naveed Akram

For Every Storm

For every storm there is a room
And find the palace now,
From deserts are a tomb and gloom,
Where clothes must just allow.

The clothing kisses us on cheek,
When effort made us worse,
The cloth we wear is rather chic,
And worry is a curse.

The storm shall grow at all the speed
That problems make us mad,
You did not follow, or then bleed
As madness is your dad.

Read the full of For Every Storm

Poor Men Speak

Poverty is hideous and nevermore, its hand creeps
Into the heart of the body that you possess,
Riches bitterly combats your proclamations,
Rich men starve at the feet of their kindred,
But you are awakened by the songs of the birds,
As poetry says power is better than poverty.

Your throat is hunting the words for a poor man,
His rich life vanished, forced by chances and gambling,

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