Hearts Poem by Naveed Akram

Hearts



Hearts have a success on their thieving selves,
Like an egg of my soul, and infinite slaves,
Their two ghosts are mere echoes on the youth,
On the weirdness I say it is foul.

Hearts have a centre of slavery,
Around them stands a throat
As far as the eyes of the heart.

Bring your hearts to this place of honour,
When or where I can not tell.

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Naveed Akram

Naveed Akram

London, England
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