Grade Of Work Poem by Naveed Akram

He artfully conducts his grade of work,
Managing a statue of light in the murk.

One reason for the nets and fellowship
Could bind the tree of substances to drip.

Let us speak on grand designs solidly made by hands,
The feet their work made to shiver were on lands.

Then the paint to drip is like cowardice,
Art became gloomy, far darker than the stewardess.

Let cowards remark on conduct in bad light,
We will laughingly describe with might.