Cobbler Poem by Hanan Muzafar

What can I do for you,
I want colour my boots,
which one?
Brown;
Sit down in corner, and wait:
Corner: I've been through my life in corners.

Every time you come,
your boots are of pure leather;
I like leather;
Another person speaks up,
I'll do what you asked for?
speaks of end time people:
Well,
Deaf and blind people, don't see prophet,
Those who know, don't accept?
Truth that!

Where is your motorcycle?
Brakes are not working good,
so I don't ride these days,
Next time if you come again,
I'll polish the pair,
How much?
You know: As you wish.