A Deformity Poem by Naveed Akram

I call it a deformity, I call it the spoken word,
Many long to see the face of rich men,
The diamonds are a facet of their everyday lives,
For jewels abstain from the many scratches and bites.
A standard face is applied, wandering is a lie,
For the water carried by the dozens of helpers weeps.
Strange eyebrows are pages of material,
In a way we call a religion or faith.
It is not me who sings tonight, justice sings today,
Forming a deformity so peaceful and delightful and delicious.
This may cause the mind to wince and swallow,
But then noses and mouths shall be speaking one day.