Bouncing Poem by Naveed Akram

Your spring has reached its limit, the bounce
Is heavenly, and surprised my living, the bounce.

Open doors O friend of the convicted one,
You are not officer or wife so alluring, the bounce.

Hosts can be friendly, once you’ve served the prison
And the cells or molecules we find adhering, the bounce.

When do houses that strike the eyes of the tourist
Come into disrepute? I find them aging, the bounce.

Prices are fixed, manipulated in the ways of the bards
Who find themselves agreeing and subduing, the bounce.

We inspect a loyal customer such as Me, we inflame him,
By asking the question worth sharing, what is the bounce?