Sunday, January 24, 2016

Love Has A Death

Love is not the touch of death,
Nor is it the river so forlorn and short;
We acquire highness from it when the
Living is tougher than the purse.
The friendship of a line of prose
Is bettered in kindness than the poets
So lovingly marvelling in flowery rock.

A statue is enough to display the kind face,
A face is huger in anger and trust.
But where is the picture of our youth?
Why do birds seem to fall and deliver?
It is duty to die and damage a few,
Than keep others in feelings of despair,
For despair lasts longer than bonfires.
Naveed Akram
Topic(s) of this poem: death,love

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1/23/2021 5:07:25 AM #