Becoming Rich Poem by Naveed Akram
Becoming Rich
May winning be absurd to the lame,
A limp has beaten the way so often;
The paths too trodden are the fair,
Bent on land, the legs have trekked.
Treacherous and trembling, the ways
Offer deceit and conception of ideas.
The treasury is about on its legs,
Money has been lame and lined here.
The mill of money is conjuring wealth
So best, blasting me with an odour of riches.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/21/2024 4:58:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
