Living Well - Poem by Naveed Akram
This could only mean living well,
It missed its mark, my hand cut a trail
That was in the ocean of regrets,
This feeling eventually nauseated me.
What beautiful land! The home of sleep and air,
A busy park so well-trod by the gentry;
Emotions worked like water from a tap,
This expedition was on boots and shoes.
These people on land were very close to me,
Like clothes afterwards, on slippers and shoes.
The real me asked from the prayers why we walk.
When is the middle road taken? How long do we stay?
Comments about Living Well by Naveed Akram
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl